Tomb of the Dark Ones
by Shawn30
Summary: AU. Chapter 3. Countess Venom carries out her deadly orders. The Knights and Rangers reach an agreement as they tour the treachery of the Highlands. Governess Divatox has a visitor...
1. Chapter 1

**Title: "Tomb of the Dark Ones"  
Chapter (1)  
Written by: Shawn**

**Summary: The decade-old treaty that held together the fragile peace in the land of Mystique is threatened by rumors of a group of dangerous vigilantes calling themselves "Rangers" invading the Highlands in search of an ancient, evil artifact. Before risking another catastrophic war, King Zordon secretly dispatches his "Knights" to learn the truth. But nothing is as it seems...**

**Category: Action-Adventure/Romance/Drama/Mystery Rating: M**

**Timeline/Spoilers: None. This is my AU-verse. I consider it a hybrid of sorts, similar to the worlds of King Arthur or Dungeons and Dragons: a medieval land of magic and mystery Expect the unexpected.**

**Characters. Tommy, Kim, Jason, Trini, Zack, Billy, Aisha, Rocky, Adam, Katherine, Tanya, Zedd, Goldar, Zordon, Dulcea, and Rita - I will honor the heart and souls of the characters as we know them, tempered only by this new world that they inhabit. Some of their names will be changed slightly, but trust me, you'll have no trouble at all knowing who they are.**

**Special Note: While those here at and my Yahoo Group will see the full story, I'm creating a very special addition of each chapter that can only be found in the Tommy/Kim story section of the "Perfect Chemistry" forum. I've updated my FF fanfic profile and you can find the link there.**

**Authors Notes 1: All will be revealed in the story. Trust me.**

**Special Thanks: To Liz and Missa, my wonderful amazing art creators who inspire my imagination in this universe. And to Vivian for her insight and help in the fantasy world I'm trying to create. You're priceless.**

* * *

**"It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change." Charles Darwin**

**"A great war leaves the country with three armies - an army of cripples, an army of mourners, and an army of thieves." German Proverb**

**"Above all things let us never forget that mankind constitutes one great brotherhood; all born to encounter suffering and sorrow, and therefore bound to sympathize with each other" Albert Pike**

* * *

**"Crucifer Cave"  
Twenty-miles Northeast of the Highlands **

**Midnight**

"This is a dwelling of ancient evil. I can feel it," Zedd muttered to himself, the scowl he wore hidden behind the thick metal-mask burned onto his face. Followed closely by his ape-beast second-in-command and thirteen Draconian warriors sworn to die on his orders, their grueling trek into this hellish place continued deeper into the cave. The thick hide of their boots dug into the wretched sludge they marched through, ever mindful of the wide-open trench beneath the creaking bridge that was filled to overflowing with the rotting corpses of ogres and men. An ungodly stench filled the musky air. "Madness dwells here."

"Then I hope our stay is brief," Goldar growled behind his captain as they made their way across the old, rocking bridge into the vast interior of the dark, shadowy cave. Jagged, limestone rock formations closed in around them like a living entity, stalking them. The torch bearer's flames cast shadows about the cave walls like devil-ghosts, adding to the howling winds that played ominously from all sides. Blood dripped steadily from the ceiling, its origin unknown. Just one of the countless mysteries of Crucifer Cave. "Lord Rancore's insistence that we search each and every one of these accursed caves is an insult. For weeks we've been secretly scouring King Zordon's territory without ever being told why."

"Lord Rancore's mystics whisper fables in his ear," Zedd noted as the walls drew narrower... the stench even stronger now than before. "He's drawn to pathetic tales of yesterday. He's much like a child in that regard." Zedd's men chuckled at their captain's bravado. He might have faithfully served their Lord Rancore, but he was certainly no fan of the man. "What he seeks here is a mystery to us all."

"Then why not remind him that you and your men, his most faithful warriors, are outnumbered behind enemy lines and running out of supplies? I've been sniffing at the grass, I'm so hungry!" Golder roared in his deep voice, with his dirty long-blade raised high at the ready. The caves were known for the bloodiest of sneak attacks. "You're one of his most revered..."

"I am a scarred creature!" Zedd halted dead in his tracks to address his second-in-command. His yellow eyes burned with fury. "When you and your kind were killing each other for scraps, I was a High General in his army until Sir Thomas tore my face in half during the great war. That transgression cost me favor in Lord Rancore's eyes."

Goldar spat sideways, and then adjusted his helmet, forged in the likeness of demons. "That was thirteen years ago. Have you not proven yourself a hundred times over since then?"

"This mask is a constant reminder of my failure, no matter my victories since." Zedd gently ran his hand over the smooth silver plate that covered most of his face. "And the Lord is not the forgiving kind."

Having fought alongside him for nearly ten seasons, Goldar knew Zedd didn't fear the Lord Rancore. In truth, he doubted Zedd feared anything. He was a most unique human, if that. The part of him that was human surely died many years ago. But Goldar was certain that even after all these years of service, his captain had a plan. And one day, a new Lord would rise. Afterwards, Rancore's body would burn on a stake to ashes, and then nothingness. "Time..."

"Time, my old friend. It is on my side, I assure you of that." Though few would ever suspect it, Zedd cracked a smile behind his mask. "All things in due season." Up ahead he heard shouting. The voice of one of his scouts sounded. He must have found the inner sanctum. Perhaps weeks of suffering through this insulting mission would finally yield something useful. "Upfront and center. Keep your eyes open!"

The rocky passage ahead grew narrower, drawing their ranks closer as the air thickened. They were all starving, exhausted, and weary from the countless battles of the last eight weeks. Battles against the unpredictable weather itself, which had already claimed several of Zedd's men. Against the creatures that hunted near this great gorge, disgusting, fowl beasts that bore hides so thick they couldn't be burned for food. Against thieves, villagers, and anyone that might alert King Zordon of their presence.

Thankfully, they hadn't encountered those so-called phantoms, the vigilantes calling themselves "Rangers," who were quickly becoming living-legends in the Highlands. They were fast becoming an unpreditcable element he found troublesome to a growing degree.

Barely able to breathe the further into the cave they trekked, Zedd swore under his breath. He endlessly detested this region. But that aside, he stormed inside the small cave at the end of the dark corridor. With each step he took, he followed the ethereal glow of light that grew ever more luminous. He knew that wasn't the torch's flame. No, this was... more. Something ancient.

Something evil.

Rounding a corner, Zedd found his scout standing before a small mound of bones set in the middle of the cave. All around them were rusted broad swords, knives, and shields. Atop the bones sat a single shimmering blue jewel, as sparking as Lake Vecian's waters on a sunny day. He knew not what this was, nor where it came. But he felt its power. "Take it."

The young scout nervously knelt by the bone mound, his throat swallowing hard. They all felt it, the utter dread and hopelessness that surrounded this jewel. It stank of mongrels and hate. Nonetheless he did as he was told, extending a shaking hand and clasped the jewel.

At first, the scout felt nothing but the surprisingly cool surface of the jewel. And then a tingling feeling grew from his fingertips to a burning sensation cascading throughout entire his body. His mouth opened to scream before falling away to ashes... it was as if his body had caught fire from the inside out... his skin blackened, hardened, cracked, and then withered away... until he was no more than a mound of ash and bones.

"A mound of bones..." Zedd thought to himself. "The jewel was never placed there. Those are the remains of others who tried to take it." Whatever it was, it was extremely powerful. Retrieving this would gain him great favor in Lord Rancore's eyes. Keeping it for himself... No. Whatever his fate, this demonic jewel wasn't attached to it. At least not directly. "Vores, give me your helmet."

The black-bearded swordsman removed the helmet from his head and handed it to Zedd.

Taking a unlit torch from his back-pack, Zedd hooked the handle end through the helmet's chin-strap, effectively creating a shovel of sorts. Holding the other end of the torch, he used it to scoop the jewel off the ground with the helmet. He waited, his breath caught in his chest. Nothing. He felt nothing. So the key was that you couldn't physically touch it, he mused. Turning to Goldar, he extended the handle of the torch. "Take this outside and mount it on one of our dead warriors' horses, then tie it to my own."

"As you wish. Just so long as we leave this fowl place." Golder took the torch, summoning the others to follow. He knew his captain often needed a moment alone to gather his thoughts after a successful mission.

Zedd's eyes fastened on something. In the corner of the cave rested a Drexel shield barring a highly reflective surface. He was drawn to it even as the sight of himself gnawed at his senses. Hairless and scarred for life. Doomed to wear this smooth, silver mask to hide the horrors of what was left of his face after Sir Thomas nearly killed him. Shamed him.

It always came back to that.

The young Knight who he underestimated in battle. Zedd paid a heavy price for his ego at the time. He was far too sure of himself, being the youngest general in Lord Rancore's army at the time. While the healers stitched together what was left of his face, he silently swore that vengeance would be his someday. He would die seeking to attain it. Nothing would stand in his way. And as that young Knight's name and legend grew famous all over the continent, his own died with the stain of his demotion and ridicule.

But Zedd was a patient man. Rage didn't govern his actions. He understood the need to grow stronger. Become a better warrior. Grow his underground network. And build secret alliances among the Lord's army. Several hundred warriors swore allegiance to him in private, but they were not nearly enough to overthrow Rancore. All things would be accomplished in the fullness of time.

The years had hardened him... removed any fear he had... and stroked the flames of his burning vengeance.

But first, Zedd knew he would need an empire. And an army, the likes of which could take Castle Bastion and all of Eltar by force.

Then he would own the entire world. Lord Zedd did indeed have a nice ring to it.

But sitting upon a throne with the world at his feet wouldn't compare to the feeling of delivering his final revenge. One day, he would find something that Sir Thomas cherished above all else. Something he loved more than his own life. And on that day...

... he would tear it apart piece by piece.

* * *

**"The Forest of Pylia"  
Ten miles west of U'selade village **

**The Highlands **

**Midnight**

With the blackest cold imaginable gripping her heart, she watched from the apex of a small dirt hill, as they blindly approached her in the dead of night.

Four large swordsmen on armored horseback led a old, wooden-frame carriage filled with newly abducted slaves. Ten of them, by her estimation. They were huddled together in rags, cold and likely wounded and were no doubt victims of the recent brutal raid on Jashiek she'd heard about a short time ago ago. The small, peaceful human village near Berla lake was already suffering from a deadly outbreak of Cameria plague and groups of roaming thieves had been preying on their dwindling numbers for weeks now. The village had been burned to the ground by outlaw raiders tonight. Thick billowing clouds of smoke were still visible if you looked skyward to the west. Most of the villagers were slaughtered, their belongings stolen and divided amongst the monsters who killed without mercy. The remaining strong men and attractive women were shackled and "given" to those who felt pillaging wasn't enough and wanted slaves as well.

They'd be sold at one of several lawless cities in the surrounding Highland territories. Many years ago, slavery was explicitly outlawed in this part of Mystique. That was the law of Eltar. The will of the so-called just King Zordon that sat atop the throne of this land.

She'd kill for him to experience just one day of the miserable, suffering life of a slave. A life she had known all too well for nearly two years. Perhaps then he would truly enforce the law and order his kingdom was supposed to stand for. Or perhaps not. She feared... no, she felt... she knew that he no longer cared about the people. He'd washed his hands of those beneath his notice long ago. King Zordon and his brave and noble Knights...

Worthless, all of them.

Nonetheless, a new justice had come to the Highlands. Ranger justice. The poor, the sick, and the defenseless would no longer suffer the consequences of a uncaring King's reign. From now on, things were going to be different. Very different. Criminals would intimately know fear again. The dark shadows they laid in wait to attack from would rebel against them now, forcing them into the light of justice.

"By the Gods!" Grissom shouted, drawing his horse to a full stop. His brows narrowed at the terrifying vision before him. His men did the same as all eyes were drawn the heavily cloaked figure awaiting them at the top of the hill. Seated on the back of a black horse, its clothing appeared so dark it melted into the very night itself, offering no evidence of the height or weight of the person. Its hood and cowl completely shrouded the rider's face as if it had none at all. The vision remained eerily still, as if the wind itself refused to blow in its presence. "That's one of those demons I heard about!"

The other four riders quickly drew their swords, immediately leaping from their horses. They assumed fighting stances around the carriage, ready to face the dark creatures they'd heard ghastly rumors about for months now. Supposedly, they attacked without warning or provocation. They ate their victim's hearts and could vanish in the blink of an eye. There were supposed to be hundreds of them... moving faster than the eye could see. They were no sex at all, a new being in this world. And they never, ever said a single word to anyone they attacked.

Bloated and fowl, gripping his long broadsword with both his large hands, Kalen began stalking towards the phantom, who did not so much as tilt its head. His heart beat a primal drum, preparing him for battle. "I've heard of your kind, demon!" he spat out, edging ever closer to the creature. "I do not fear you. I have killed over a hundred men in my lifetime. AND I SHALL ADD YOUR HEAD TO MY COLLECTION!"

The cloaked figure gracefully swung its right leg over the horse, a black boot crushing against Kalen's skull with a sickening thud. The hulking man twisted on his feet before quickly regaining his footing. His head wound wept steadily, coating his grimace in crimson. "I'm going to kill you now!" With renewed rage, he wildly slashed his broadsword sword with such force his entire body lunged at his enemy. He swore his eyes betrayed him when the creature simply faded sideways out of the reach of his attack and then parried his next strike with a sword he'd hadn't even seen it carrying. Before he could attack again, agonizing pain tore through his legs courtesy of the creature's sword slicing across his kneecaps, tearing the flesh. "Arrggghh!! Kill it!! Kill it before it kills us all!!"

The four swordsmen felt the gusting winds produce an animalistic howl around them as the full moon suddenly hid behind the clouds above, drowning the forest in utter darkness. With hatred and fear pounding in their chests, they quickly advanced toward the phantom...

... not one of them made it.

From the towering birch trees around them descended three more phantoms, swords raised, their voluminous black cloaks rippling in the wind. They attacked with such fierce speed and blunt force that the slavers were overwhelmed. Kalen, Jackel, Murse, Grissom, and Faul nearly hit each other while trying to defend themselves. The creatures were barely visible and furiously fought as if they were one living entity bred to inspire fear and hopelessness.

Days later, while filled with ale and vigor, the mending swordsmen will spin exaggerated tales of facing the so-called phantoms and besting them to a draw. None will speak of being knocked unconscious, hog-tied together, and waking up on the side of the road in the morning. None will speak of the sheer, uncanny skill the phantoms displayed as magnificent warriors, reducing their fight into a lopsided defeat that was over before any of them even knew it began.

Shivering and huddled together, several slaves strained their eyes in the dark to witness the battle, hoping to capture sight of the phantoms first-hand as they had become living legends in the Highlands. The slash and cut of swords, coupled with the grunts and moans of intense pain, were all that any of them would be able to describe days later. They would regale all who would listen that the phantoms fought without making a single sound. That they moved like ghosts, their swords a blur of silver slashing through the night.

And finally, the phantoms were their saviors.

"Please help us!" begged an elderly female near the front of the carriage. The phantom who stood atop the small hill pointed towards them. Two others broke ranks, quickly approaching the carriage. The slaves backed away, praying they weren't delivered from one master only to be captured by another. Fortunately, fate smiled on them this night.

The two phantoms assaulted opposite sides of the carriage, fiercely cutting through two metal chains that held the back doors together. When they were opened, the slaves helped each other out, still very worried about what was to come. The nocturnal music of the forest played with their minds as they huddled together once more. They could see the "Leader," for lack of a better term, and another phantom binding the swordsmen's arms and legs up ahead.

Suddenly, all eyes fell at the sound of a dirty satchel being tossed at their feet. Gold coins peeked out even in the dead of night, more than any of them had seen in their lives. A modestly taller phantom walked up to one of the men, his arm shielding a young girl behind his back, mostly likely his daughter. He was bloodied and beaten, but alive. It was obvious he needed a healer in the worst way.

"Take," ordered the phantom in a clipped, deep voice. It pointed to the satchel, and then swordsmen's horses. "Take and go. Now."

The man cautiously gathered the satchel in his hands. "Thank you, phantom."

"Rangers," it corrected the man, a single black-gloved finger pointed at him. "Rangers," it repeated. "Tell everyone."

The male slave nodded before urgently ushering the slaves toward the horses. Taking two to a horse, they wasted no time reaching a full gallop, the ground quickly pelted with hoof prints as they fled into the night, possessions no more.

"Slaves freed with no casualties," the taller of the two Rangers commented upon removing the dark cloak and cowl covering her lovely face. "Not a bad night's work."

"I couldn't have said it better myself, Trinity." A beautiful Nubian woman appeared from beneath her cloak, acknowledging her good friend. "If the slaves continue north, they'll hit Vici City by sunrise. Hopefully, they'll find a new start there."

"From your mouth to the Gods' ears, Tetanya." Brushing her luxuriously long dark hair aside, Trinity found her other two friends struggling to drag the four swordsmen towards the carriage. Her arms crossed her chest, amusement lifting her lips into a smile. "I don't suppose you two require assistance?"

Dropping one of the thick binds from her hand, another beautiful Nubian woman appeared from beneath her cowl. "Trinity, I swear sometimes I just want to shove my sword..." The three uncloaked females began laughing before she even finished, all working together now. Trinity quickly offered her help in dragging the swordsmen into the carriage. "Let's see how these cretins enjoy life behind bars for a while."

"They certainly deserve that and more," noted the final phantom, removing her cowl and revealing the long chestnut tresses hidden beneath. Though shorter than her sisters-in-arms, her stature towered as their leader. The creation of the Rangers was a group decision, the subterfuge and creation of mystery were all her grand design. "The slaves will do their part in keeping the Rangers' name out there with the people. As for those slavers, I'm sure those worthless dogs will spin their own version as well. Just so long as word spreads."

"No matter," Kaiesha added. "Lives were saved and I'm sure Lord Rancore's men will learn of our efforts. They'll come looking for us someday soon and once we're able to capture one of them, we'll learn what they're searching for in the Highlands. Their presence here continues to trouble me greatly."

"Agreed," Trinity added. "He's breaking the treaty and risking a war he can't possibly win."

"That makes finding out what he's seeking our top priority." Ignoring the chilly night air, Kimberly locked the carriage's back door, sealing the slavers inside. "Tetanya, ride the carriage east to the outskirts of Seseel village. Their hunting parties will find this trash before long."

Climbing aboard the carriage's horse, Tetanya grabbed the reigns. "If any of you eat all of Skullovich's duck soup before I arrive home, I assure you there will be hell to pay." When they all rolled their eyes, she smiled and then gave the horse a mild nudge, brokering it forward.

Kimberly of Hart watched her beloved sister ride off, mindful of the good work done tonight. Slavers were growing in numbers and boldness recently, something that the Ranger's leader detested, as she herself had been held captive against her will for nearly two years. Her crippled spirit soared like a Crane bird these days, but she recalled the horrors and beatings of not long ago. Although Kimberly and her sisters were spared the horrors of prostitution, as their masters weren't human, but many other slaves were not so lucky.

Sold into a grotesque life they never chose, female slaves often had to sell their bodies to provide sustenance for their families - never mind the slow death of their souls. Kimberly often worried that man's lust bordered on unquenchable at times. Nonetheless, the slaves freed tonight wouldn't share that fate. So she inhaled the brisk air of victory. Every good deed was a balm for her broken heart.

Had Olum Bayward not come into her and the girl's lives at their lowest point as slaves, teaching them the legendary skills that made him a master swordsman and hunter, she feared what they would have had to become in order to survive. His tragic death still marked her to this day, the kindly old man who gave her the ability to take her freedom back. And now those skills were being used to save lives and bring justice back to the Highlands. Her life, now her own again, had meaning.

And purpose.

Kimberly strode with Trinity and Kaisha towards their horses. "We're done here. Let's return to Elpis and get a good night's sleep."

"A good night's sleep, dearest Kimberly?" Trinity teased her. "Still searching for your sweet dreams, aren't you?"

Mounting her dark horse, Kimberly's brown eyes searched skyward. "There's nothing sweet about them, Trinity. My dreams are filled with white falcons. Therein my destiny lies."

* * *

**"Castle Bastion"  
The grand balcony of the castle **

**Overlooking the Capitol City of Eltar **

**Sunset**

"Winged lord of the sky," Sir Thomas whispered and extended his arm against the burnt-orange sunset, lost in appreciation of the graceful white falcon soaring towards the castle walls. The pure freedom of flight had enchanted him ever since he was a small boy. And though he would never be able to fly himself, becoming a falconer at least gave him a bond to those who could. As the white falcon glided toward his wrist-brace, landing with its beautifully thin tapered wings spread, he felt young again, just as he had before the Great War had robbed him of his youth. "Welcome home, Saba. What wild adventures do you have to regale me with this evening?"

The proud falcon perched patiently and then was rewarded for its loyalty with small tidbits of bright, red meat. It hungrily ate from its master's fingertips.

Sighing peacefully, Sir Thomas fed his partner of the last six seasons. "Perhaps you aren't in the mood to share the tales of your journeys. I'm not always in a talkative mood either." The falcon flapped its wings, giving a squawk of sorts that he took as a yes. There were days when he swore this animal was as wise as any human he'd ever encountered; other times he was sure Saba saw him as a sure meal and nothing more. Nonetheless, his presence was always welcome. "Have you heard? The Knights have been called from across the land for a meeting tonight. It seems something has stirred the King."

Sir Thomas smiled when the falcon angled its head, signaling it wanted more food. He complied, reaching with his free hand into a small silver plate resting nearby. "Do you have any idea why I've enjoyed your kind so much through the years?" The falcon ate heartily and then faced him head on with something resembling a stare. It was as close to a reply as Saba ever gave. "I don't know what became of my parents when I was born. I was abandoned at a church called Elpis in the Highlands, and then raised here in a Eltar orphanage. I used to sit on the window ledge in the room I shared with three other boys and stare out at a huge Mendocino tree behind the orphanage where many different birds flocked daily. I would watch them, marveling at their freedom of being able to go anywhere they wanted in all the world. I wasn't adopted until I was thirteen, so I spent many seasons coming to admire your kind. All I ever wanted was freedom and adventure. Thankfully, a kind couple who couldn't bear children of their own took me in and loved me. They encouraged me become a falconer when they learned of my interest in birds. Who knew that interest would someday lead me into becoming a Knight?"

"You talk to that bird far more than you talk to me."

The unmistakably familiar voice drew Thomas' attention. "It's because he's better company."

Sir Jacen walked out onto the balcony, his hand covering his chest in mock outrage. "You wound me deeply," he laughed, reaching his fellow Knight as they stood together for the first time in three weeks. "Although many times I've preferred the company of my horse to your forgetful antics."

"You're free to go back to those haunted catacombs if you'd like," Thomas noted with a grin, and then watched Saba take off for parts unknown, soaring skyward. "I suppose he isn't interested in whatever the King has in store for us."

"But I am," Jacen commented, his tone growing serious. "Something's amiss."

Thomas nodded. "I assume you've heard the rumors as well?"

"They've reached Eltar?" Thomas gave another nod. Jacen grazed his chin with his hand, looking out over the sweeping vista of Eltar. "I pray the rumors are false."

"As do I. Lord Rancore doesn't possess the men or the resources to wage another war. And even if we won, we'd never be able to hold the country together with what would be left."

Jacen silently agreed, the dire dread in his best friends voice matching his own. "Rumors are just that until more evidence is gathered. More than likely, that is why the King has summoned all the Knights. Who has gathered so far?"

"Adama and Rockford arrived late last night, while William made it here mid-day. Dulcia and Zachary are with the King and his High Council as we speak."

"Then we should join them." Jacen turned to walk away when a hand caught his forearm for a moment. Without saying a word he knew the conversation to come, dreading it greatly. "I do not wish..."

"Jacen, something has to be done and soon. My wedding is two months away." Thomas came around to face his best friend. "I am your brother as surely as if we shared the same blood. I will not marry the woman you love, who loves you endlessly in return, while you stand by my side. This is madness. For the Gods' sake, run away with her."

Having thought of little else since he was summoned to return to the castle, Jacen looked profoundly troubled. "What would you have me do, Thomas? Disappear with the Duchess and lose the vast acres, farming lands and medicine the Sutherlands are offering for free if you marry their only daughter? How could I be so selfish as to cost our people such a prize?"

Exhaling deeply, Thomas shook his head. "I cannot marry Catherine. I adore her, but I do not love her, nor does she love me. Surely you must protest to her father personally."

"I have." Jacen watched his friend's face fall as he hadn't been aware of that. "He feels I lack the name recognition you enjoy. You're the face of the Empire, Thomas. With King Zordon having no heirs, you would be on a short list of candidates to become King when he is no more."

"Your name would be on that list as well; your accomplishments equal my own," Thomas argued. "We are co-leaders of the Knights. We fought side-by-side at age seventeen in a war and made it out alive. We are Generals in the Eltarian Army. Your name is spoken of with the greatest respect and awe throughout the land. Your character is impeccable. I would have words with any man who said otherwise."

Cracking a small smile, Jacen rested a hand on Thomas's shoulder. "And yet her father sees only you as worthy. But rest assured, I appreciate the argument."

"I will not consummate the marriage if it takes place at all. I won't. I swear it." Thomas watched Jacen close his eyes in frustration, and then brush his feelings aside as a gentle night air blew past them. "I could disappear..."

"No," Jacen was quick to cut him off. "Brother, for the time being, we must focus on whatever assignment the King brings before us. I have a feeling it is of the greatest importance for us all to be gathered on such short notice. When it is done, when shall revisit this talk. Until then..."

"Until then," Thomas agreed, sharing a smile with Jacen. "Besides, there's one good reason I could never marry Catherine."

"What, pray tell is that?"

"She's a swan," Thomas explained while casting a last gaze to the heavens. "And my dreams are filled with cranes."

* * *

White and red robes of the highest quality silk were worn by the eight Royal guards posted outside the huge oak doors of the "War Room" as Sir Jacen and Sir Thomas approached. All bowed before the Grand Generals, and two of the guardsmen opened the heavy doors for them to enter.

Clad in black boots and pants with loose-fitting white and red tunics bearing the "Eltar" Capital crest above the right shoulder, Sir Thomas and Sir Jacen strode into the magnificent chamber and were announced before the assembly. Both acknowledged King Zordon by drawing their jeweled swords in salute. The King favored them with a respectful nod, seated at the round table he presided over.

Bleached white walls fitted with Royal Eltarian flags and golden torches gave a majestic, radiant glow to this hallowed hall. Ornate candlesticks bearing the crest of the King lifted the comforting scent of burning cedar in the air. Ancient, priceless paintings of Kings past hung from the high ceiling, lording over those present even in death. The legendary mahogany round table, created so that all who served the kingdom were counted as equal, was designed as a ring with a hollow center. Simplistic and symbolic at the same time best described its decor. Twenty-four chairs circled the table, seating the King, his High Council, and the other Knights.

Thirteen chairs remained vacant, symbolic of the Great War and the valiant Knights who sacrificed their lives for the kingdom. Gone, but never, ever forgotten

Due to the immense size of the kingdom, it was a truly rare occurrence that found the entire ruling body of Eltar assembled together at the same time. Sir Jacen, Sir Thomas, Sir William, Sir Adama, Sir Rockford, Sir Zachary, and Lady Dulcia were the last of the Great Knights of Eltar. Also present were the King's trusted High Council, Lady Angelica, Lady Melyssa, Lady Vivienne, and Lord DeSean.

As the Royal guards and the announcer quietly exited the chamber, King Zordon peered around his round table while wearing a most serious, dire expression on his face. Worry lines that appeared not long after his fiftieth birthday months ago seemed to have deepened in recent days. His crown felt heavier now than ever before. These were troubling times indeed. "Forgive my lack of beginning this meeting with our holy grace, but I shall get to the point. Dreadful rumors have begun to spread throughout the kingdom. And while I am adverse to giving mere gossip any notice, this one in particular must be addressed and refuted," he punctuated when his fist pounded atop the table. The sound echoed about the chamber. "As I'm sure some of you have heard, there's word that Lord Baron Rancore has sent warriors into the Highlands searching for something. If true, then he is in direct violation of our peace treaty. With the wide-spread infighting in his own kingdom draining his already depleted resources, to risk war with us can only mean one thing. What he seeks must be incredibly powerful and deadly. Something worth risking his entire kingdom over."

"What of the reports of this so-called outlaw gang calling themselves Rangers, your majesty?" Sir Adama inquired, his eyes scanning the assembly. "The tales I've heard about them are vastly mysterious. There's talk that they aren't even human. They could be spreading rumors to further their own name and recognition. This might not be the work of Lord Rancore at all."

"I have considered that," King Zordon thoughtfully replied. "It is an issue I shall address later in this meeting. For now, I have new orders for you all." Turning to address his High Council, the King continued. "Lady Angelica and Lady Melyssa are to leave at first light for the city of Caravine."

Sharing a fretful look with Lady Melyssa, the supervisor for the capitol city of Eltars Healers Academy commented, "Your majesty, Sir Rockford and Sir Adama were just there calming the people's fears over the raiders plaguing their lands. Surely our presence won't bring them the same comfort as a Knight?"

"Lady Angelica, when you arrive with three battalions of soldiers as well as a personal message to the people from me, they will be comforted and assured of their security."

Not one to usually bite her tongue, Lady Melyssa chose her words carefully as she sensed the stress the King was under. "Your majesty, the construction of the Bremilin Alchemist Society temple is in its most critical stage. I am needed to oversee its final design. We are on the cusp of a number of new discoveries that will benefit the kingdom for many seasons to come. Forgive me, but I question the wisdom of this move. Certainly, a Knight's presence would soothe the people's fears more. The citizens of Caravine see members of the High Council as little more that glorified politicians."

Under any other circumstances the King would agree with her. But not tonight. Not under 'these' circumstances. "Milady, I apologize for the inconvenience, but at this time you are needed elsewhere. I assure you the resources and additional manpower needed to complete the temple will be available to you upon the completion of your mission. For now, you must secure that region as it is vital to the kingdom. My orders stand."

Sighing, Lady Melyssa gave a bow. "Yes, your majesty."

"With that matter settled," the King proceeded, "Lord Desean and Lady Vivienne, you will will travel to Fahlor Valley to meet with the regional governors there. I want a full progress report on the rebuilding of Vangress dam and an on-site assessment of the recent flood damage to the Costler crop fields."

Ever perceptive, Lady Vivienne offered no rebuttal to her new assignment, as she felt the King was dealing with something more than he was letting on. He was a wise and just King, one she trusted absolutely. But with this new task, it didn't play to her strengths as the High Justice of the Eltarian Court system. Nonetheless, she was sure the King had his reasons. "Has word been sent of our impending arrival, your majesty?"

"No. And no word will be sent beforehand. In addition, two heavy battalions will escort you."

Having faithfully worked in the the King's service for nearly twelve seasons as the High Governor of Eltar, Lord DeSean sensed far more was to this unexpected trip than was being addressed. "Your majesty, respectfully, you would not send us to that region with two whole battalions unless you expected trouble. Traditionally, a single Knight's presence would suffice."

"I am..." the King paused, considering his options. "I am of the mind that these days I require those I trust the most to first-hand witness the actions of those I'm coming to question. My friend, I value few as I do you and Lady Vivienne. For now my word will have to be enough."

"It is, your majesty," Lord DeSean accepted without further debate.

"Now that the matter is settled," King Zordon said, "My High Counsel is dismissed. Good journey. May the power protect you."

As the High Counsel bid their respectful farewells, Sir Jacen and Sir Thomas shared a look of deep concern. Sir Adama and Sir Rockford were shocked by their emergency summons from Caravine, further sign that dark events were unfolding. Sipping a cup of Drollen tea, Sir William sensed the ominous mood of the King. So did Lady Dulcia, whom many considered closer to the King than either would ever admit. Sir Zachary grazed his hand over the hilt of his sword, worried that very soon very soon he'd need to use it.

No doubt matters of the kingdom were far darker than even they feared.

"My Knights, grave days are ahead," the King warned, his hands folded on the table, his gaze piercing. "As you all well know, if Lord Baron Rancore, or any under his rule, enter Eltarian lands unannounced it is a direct violation of the peace treaty that holds this fragile world together." He continued after a moment's pause. "Dark rumors continue to mount by the day. I fear that the Highlands have fallen beneath our notice."

"Governess Divatox is a viper," Lady Dulcia spoke up, offering no favor to the regional governor of the Highlands. The only living female Knight felt her anger rising at the mere mention of the Governess. "I have suspected she possessed a treacherous nature for many seasons. And with all due respect, I never felt she deserved her position as regional governor. Power and fame drive her interests."

"I'm inclined to agree, " Sir Jacen said, and then bowed his head. "Spies are reporting something of a dictatorship growing in the Highlands. The Governess sends reports of peace and tranquility, while we hear of child prostitution, rape, violence, and outlaw gangs rampaging the area. I no longer believe we can take her word for anything."

Sir Thomas gave a nod before addressing the assembly. "She's been left to her own devices for far too long. If anyone is to blame for the lawlessness raging throughout the Highlands, it is..."

"Me." King Zordon's authoritative voice boomed throughout the chamber. His hand lifted before any could argue his claim. "My kingdom is massive, while my most trusted are few. We are stretched thin at every corner of the world, and the recent terrible weather seasons have begun to strain even our resources. To put it bluntly, things have slipped through the cracks under my watch for some time now. And while I can't change what has happened, it doesn't mean I will allow it to continue any further."

"Say the word, your majesty," Sir Rockford interjected, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "By morning I could summon ten battalions of men. We could be in the Highlands within six moons."

"No, Sir Rockford." Slowly shaking his head, King Zordon took a moment to gaze at each of his beloved Knights... perhaps lingering on the lovely Lady Dulcia a moment more. "While the order of Eltar must be restored to the Highlands should the rumors prove true, the greater most concern lies with Lord Rancore and the prospect of war."

"He's surrounded himself with mystics, if word rings true," Sir William offered. "There's talk of his keen interest in the dark arts and the arcane underworld. If he has secretly engaged his forces in the Highlands, then we must promptly ascertain his intentions."

"Agreed." Sir Adama sat up straighter. "The Highlands are no staging ground for an invasion of Eltar. As a strategic territory, its practically worthless, militarily. He's searching for something deadly, I assure you of that."

"I have said this before, and I shall say it again," Sir Zachary began detailing his thoughts. "While my truest nature enjoys fun and a bit of ale at times..." All present shared a smile. "I feel the time has come to end Lord Rancore's existence."

"Assassination?" King Zordon questioned.

Pausing momentarily, Sir Zachary nodded. "There are other leaders in Despera who would be open to real talks with us that might produce something far more amicable than the peace treaty. Imagine a united world."

"A united world? In our lifetime..." Lady Dulcia tried to wrap her mind around the concept. "It seems like a myth."

"But one worth fighting for," Sir Jacen replied. "Your majesty, what are your orders?"

"Under the guise of traveling swordsmen, all of you will journey in secret to the Highlands. No one must suspect you are Knights. Find the truth about Lord Rancore's interest in the area. And while you're there, judge Governess Divatox's rule first hand. If she needs to be removed, I want to do it swiftly. But only if the rumors are true." King Zordon rose to his feet, followed by all his Knights. "Sir Adama and Sir Rockford, make the necessary preparations for the long journey. Sir William, plot the fastest course to the Highlands. As for the rest of you, head to the capitol city and leave word that each of you are being reassigned across the land. We will use rumors to our advantage while we work in secret. Report back to the castle by sunrise to begin your journey. You leave at first morning's light. Good journey and may the power protect you."

* * *

**"Horde" Castle **

**The second capital city of Mystique **

**Despera **

**Late night**

"The power will not protect them this time," Lord Baron Rancore's deep voice slithered coldly over the souls of everyone present. "In fact, it will be the very blade that slits King Zordon's throat."

Seated atop a marble throne outfitted with the crushed bones of his enemies, his harsh grey-black gaze roamed his tremendous chamber. Grissom and Mase, his right-hands, withering mystics sworn to die in service of their Lord, awaited his command. The incredibly alluring Empress Ritalia, his deadly sorceress wife, looked on. "My ascension is at hand. The Great Oracle has spoken of the path I must follow. King Zordon's rule will crumble before his very eyes!!"

Lifting a single black-gloved hand, Lord Rancore gave a silent order to the hulking Ogre guards stationed on the other end of the black-stone throne room. The towering, old iron frame doors slowly creaked open, flecks of rust falling from their hinges. Zedd and Goldar swiftly entered the chamber and then fell to their knees alongside the others. Silence reigned, as no one dared speak unless first spoken to by his excellency. Mindful as he was of Zedd's distaste for him, Lord Rancore took particular pleasure in seeing the human bowing before him. "Show me."

Reaching inside his dark vest, Zedd removed a small brown satchel. Upon opening it, the demonic blue jewel lifted ominously into the air, drawn towards Rancore's bare, outstretched hand. Zedd's heart raced, begging for the jewel to reach his hand and end his disgusting life. As if the sight of the bastard hybrid of a female slave and an ogre wasn't enough to turn even his strong stomach, that he had to kneel before this fowl thing was a further insult. Someday though... someday.

Rancore's eyes widened as he realized the mystics had been right; Lord Rancore halted the jewel's progress just before it reached his hand. He swore that for a brief heartbeat, Zedd had scowled that he hadn't taken the jewel into his grasp. Such a thought wasn't surprising. Many wanted him dead. Prayed, wished, and plotted his demise while even smiling in his face. The lot of them were eventually torn apart, their bones used to make his throne even more imposing to look at.

None defied Lord Baron Rancore and lived.

The shimmering blue jewel was suspended in mid-air before Lord Rancore's outstretched hand. He hadn't believed the "Eye of Zion" had even existed, yet now proof positive levitated before him. Further evidence that his destiny was at hand. "Grissom, is this the genuine article?"

Rising slowly to his full height, modest as it was, the one-hundred and twenty-four year old mystic carefully approached the jewel. The ancient books he'd consulted about the jewel when the Great Oracle began detailing its importance to Lord Rancore were older than him, older than almost anything in the known world. And now a powerful relic from a forgotten age sat before him.

Grissom raised a pale, wrinkled hand to his scalp, brushing through the long gray strands of his hair. Crystal blue eyes scanned over the jewel. He could feel its immense power in his very bones. Ancient, evil magic created it, the likes of which was not thought to exist anymore. "My Lord, it is. The Eye of Zion is yours, just as the Great Oracle predicted."

Nodding, Lord Rancore drained his goblet of Despera Blood Ale before he spoke. "Mase, report?"

Unable to resist sending a cold glare Zedd's way, Mase scurried to his feet to stand beside Grissom. The black dwarf drew back its dark cowl while inspecting the jewel. Such power... it reeked of horrible potential. The Great Oracle, silent for ten generations past, began whispering to Lord Rancore weeks ago... chanting fables of omnipotent power... and a dire warning should he pursue this power. "It is the Eye, my Lord. I am certain of it. But grave danger accompanies this jewel. To touch it with a mere bare hand would bring instant death, should the legend hold true."

With his magic holding the jewel in place, Lord Rancore's stare favored it with the utmost curiosity. "Such a small trinket, and yet it can hold limitless power." Turning his head, he addressed those that brought him this prize. "Zedd and Goldar. Wretched though you both are, your abilities are worth the high praise my soldiers regard you with. You have done well."

Wishing for nothing more than the chance to shove his sword through Lord Rancore's throat, Zedd held his tongue lest it be cut off. He bowed modestly, ever patient in his ultimate pursuits. "Thank you, my Lord. But I must warn you that my forces engaged in battle five times in the Highlands. Surely word of our presence will reach the kingdom of Eltar. And if that happens, war will follow."

With a sole finger grazing over the tattooed mark of Lordship on his neck, Lord Baron Rancore rose from his throne. He slowly approached those assembled, his cursed, living cape swirling around his broad shoulders. Tall and imposingly powerful, he hated that Zedd was his equal in stature, even though he was certainly no match for his brilliance. After all, Lord Rancore was above all else, a visionary. "King Zordon does not want a war with us, no matter that he knows he could win. His kingdom has grown too fast and he's lost touch with his people. He can no longer see the forest for the trees. I know this man well, Zedd. He will investigate the rumors throughly and then ask to meet with me to discuss his findings in hopes of avoiding war at all costs. Diplomacy rules the Kingdom of Eltar. Such frivolousness will buy me weeks, if not months of time to accomplish my goal."

"And what if you don't?" Zedd could not drag the words back inside his mouth if he tried. Standing tall in the face of a man who could have him killed with but a raised brow, he could no more appear like a whipped dog than he could hold the sun in his hands.

"Failure does not exist to me," Lord Rancore explained. "The Great Oracle has spoken. I am meant to drown Eltar in its own blood and rule this world." His voice rose to a booming noise. "This is my destiny! Just as remaining a mangled shell of a man forever trapped behind a metal mask is yours." Turning his back, Lord Rancore swept his cape in a billowing fashion, appearing swallowed by its dark specter. "Empress, I have offered you any jewel that exists in this world, but I cannot offer you this one. Would you like to know why?"

Rising to her feet, Empress Ritalia bowed her head. "I live for your will, my Lord. I do not question."

Lord Rancore rarely allowed his human side to emerge, but Empress Ritalia's tight-fitting gown of dark velvet so complimented her stunning frame, he swallowed hard in the back of his throat. Nonetheless, he knew of her treacherous spirit. He allowed her secrets, as she was powerful and able to exhaust his carnal desires. She was a viper better kept close than at a distance. "This jewel is called the Eye of Zion. Legend speaks of it being used to imprison the Dark Ones!"

"BLASPHEMY!" screamed Goldar at the mere mention of the Dark Ones.

"Silence," Lord Rancore whispered before taking his throne once more. "Or be silenced."

Gritting his teeth with all his might, Goldar bowed his head once more. "Forgive me, my Lord."

With Lord Rancore preoccupied for a time, Zedd risked a gaze toward Empress Ritalia. Lord Rancore's wife she may be, but her passions were sated in his bed alone. She swore at the height of every single climax that she belonged to him. Just as someday this entire kingdom would. The most subtle curling of her lips both aroused him and assured that she knew what he was thinking. Their elicit affair, if it became public, would see them hanged. But for a woman such as her, death was an easy risk.

"It was said that the Dark Ones once burned our world until the surface was like glass," Lord Rancore began with a rousing tone of voice. "They massacred the living almost into extinction. And when the remaining population of the entire world numbered into the hundreds, it was said that a powerful group of sorcerers hailing from Zion imprisoned the Dark Ones for all time. They were trapped in Crysis, the forbidden land no one can ever find. And then the sorcerers disappeared without a trace, leaving a single journal behind of their exploits that volumes of books were written from."

"Nearly two thousand years have passed," he continued, now circling the throne room, his hands clasped behind his back. "This is a new day and age. The secrets of Zion await me. The Great Oracle has provided the information I need to continue/succeed in my divine quest. I will discover the way to Crysis."

Zedd growled, "It is said that the spirits of the dead dwell there. It is the land of the lost. This is madness!"

"No... Destiny." Lord Baron Rancore shut his eyes to the assembly, exhaling a deeply held breath. "It is said that this very jewel absorbed the powers of the Dark Ones almost to the point of killing them, so that they could be imprisoned forever. But I will discover the way to release the Dark Ones. And then I will use this jewel to steal their powers and merge them with my own. I will becoming a living God on this planet and no King... no army, or Knights, or anything living or dead will stand in the way of my absolute rule. I WILL BECOME A GOD!!"

* * *

**The End of Chapter 1**

**PS: Massive, massive thanks to Vivian, Liz, and Kim for all their help and support.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: "Tomb of the Dark Ones"  
Chapter (2)  
Written by: Shawn**

**Summary: The Knights trek their way towards the Highlands. While seeking medical supplies, Kimberly gently dances around Skullovitch's advances. Zedd begins plotting behind the scenes. The Rangers and Knights finally confront each other!**

**Category: Action-Adventure/Romance/Drama/Mystery Rating: M**

**Timeline/Spoilers: None. This is my AU-verse. I consider it a hybrid of sorts, similar to the worlds of King Arthur or Dungeons and Dragons: a medieval land of magic and mystery Expect the unexpected.**

**Characters. Tommy, Kim, Jason, Trini, Zack, Billy, Aisha, Rocky, Adam, Katherine, Tanya, Zedd, Goldar, Zordon, Dulcea, and Rita - I will honor the heart and souls of the characters as we know them, tempered only by this new world that they inhabit. Some of their names will be changed slightly, but trust me, you'll have no trouble at all knowing who they are.**

**Special Note: While those here at and my Yahoo Group will see the full story, I'm creating a very special addition of each chapter that can only be found in the Tommy/Kim story section of the "Perfect Chemistry" forum. I've updated my FF fanfic profile and you can find the link there.**

**Authors Notes 1: All will be revealed in the story. Trust me.**

**Special Thanks: To Liz and Missa, my wonderful amazing art creators who inspire my imagination in this universe. And to Vivian for her insight and help in the fantasy world I'm trying to create. You're priceless.**

**For everything there is a season,  
And a time for every matter under heaven:  
A time to be born, and a time to die;  
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;  
A time to kill, and a time to heal;  
A time to break down, and a time to build up;  
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;  
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;  
A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;  
A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing;  
A time to seek, and a time to lose;  
A time to keep, and a time to throw away;  
A time to tear, and a time to sew;  
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;  
A time to love, and a time to hate,  
A time for war, and a time for peace.  
~~ Ecclesiastes 3:1-8**

**********

**********

**Greymalken Road **

**A dangerous stretch of land that spans across the entire continent of Mystique **

**Nearing the Highlands **

**The land of Eltar **

**Late evening**

Seven riders dressed in commoner's clothing traversed with purpose through the chill of the misty night air, their horses galloping at a swift pace along the legendary Graymalken Road. An incredible length of land that crossed the entire country from ocean to ocean, known far and wide as much for its rich history as the ominous danger found on its trail. The nearby Vycan Lake gave off a hint of salt in the air, while South Mountain eagles hunted overhead. Three days of hard travel out of the capital city of Eltar saw the group exhausted, yet eager to begin their mission.

Sir Jacen, Sir Thomas, Lady Dulcia, Sir Zachary, Sir William, Sir Rockford, and Sir Adama... the Grand Knights of Eltar were closing in on the Highlands.

Their mission, investigate rumors of Lord Baron Rancore sending his dreaded forces into the Highlands, thereby breaking the thirteen-year peace treaty with the Kingdom of Eltar. A allegation that could lead to war if proven truthful. In addition, whispers of treachery carried about by Governess Divatox have carried to the King's ears. They must be justified or proven false. There was no other course of action.

"Ogre's once dwelled here," Jacen noted while slowing his horse to a gentler ride along the shaven stones aligning the road's path. "Their foul stench still filters the air."

"And here I thought that was you, courtesy of the beans Rockford served for dinner earlier," Thomas teased his best friend, wearing a smile despite the cold, wet weather.

"Oh, jokes from the Knight who dreams of little birds every night? Do you think you'll need a bedtime story before falling asleep?"

"As long as I fall asleep nowhere near you and your bean-pollution, I shall sleep just fine."

Dulcia deftly navigated her horse between the two men, shaking her head the entire time. "You two should practice this comedy routine and perform it at some of the bars in Eltar. I'm sure there are tons of people who would pay their gold coins to watch two grown Knights banter like school children."

Thomas and Jacen shared a smirk, and then said at the same time, "Sorry Mom."

"I swear I will behead you both someday," Dulcia half-laughed despite fighting the amused emotion. Jacen and Thomas's friendship was a beautiful, if at times immature thing. They were fierce, intense warriors who shared a brotherhood the world would be better off for emulating. But sometimes... alot of times... they made her want to kill them. "We will need to make camp soon. Our horses are tired and so are we."

"Agreed." Jacen caught sight of the serious expression clouding Dulcia's face. Irregardless of their findings concerning Lord Baron Rancore's presence in he Highlands, he knew what darkened her mood since the moment the rumors began about Governess Divatox. "What does your gut tell you about your sister?"

Her grip tightened on her reins, while her face became a grim mask. "I have not spoken to my sister in three seasons. And even when I did, it was far from what you might call cordial. Since the day our parents and brother died so... mysteriously, our relationship whithered to nothing. I fear she may be guilty of all the crimes believed of her, though a part of me longs to be proven wrong."

"If she is guilty we will remove her from office by force, if necessary. Are you prepared for that?" Jacen questioned, with Thomas looking on.

"I am prepared for anything, Jacen. I suggest you do the same."

With that clipped tone of voice, Jacen knew not to push things any further. Sparing a knowing glance at Thomas, he pulled just ahead of the group. "I'm going to scout ahead for a place to camp. Watch for my torch fire." Without another word said he rode off at a hard gallop, nearly disappearing in the night mist.

"William, my friend. You should have been there," Zachary fondly reminisced at a easy gallop. "Not only did I break the table with five winning hands of Darbeq, but horse racing those losers afterwards not only allowed me to leave with even more of their gold... but at least two of their women as well."

While Zachary was ever the dreamer and a bit of a exaggerator, he was a very entertaining brother to William. And though the Knight's science and mystic arts expert would never admit it, he often lived through his wilder brother. The Nubian man knew how to find a good time anywhere in the kingdom. William often envied his ability to let go of his quiet resolve. "Are you sure there weren't three women?"

It wasn't hard to tell when William was chiding him back. Nonetheless, Zachary took it all in stride. "I may have had a bit to much ale that night. It might of been five women. It was all a blur after the card game," he joked.

In William's eyes, Zachary simply lived life to the fullest. But deep down, he knew his friend was searching for something more grounded and real than just a good time. Recently speaking, William thought Zachary just might of found it. "Are you sure none of the women were that beautiful teacher, Angela? I've seen you helping out at her school from time to time."

Just hearing her name affected Zachary more than any other woman had in years. He had no quick witted reply as her pretty brown eyes haunted him more than he cared to say. "She teaches alot of the poorer kids and orphans near South Eltar. Getting to meet and talk to a Knight is a big deal, so I don't mind spending time there. If it helps inspire the children I'm all for it."

He wasn't fooling anyone, least of all William. While it was well known Zachary possessed a caring heart, anyone who saw the Knight gaze at Angela even one time saw the adoration shining in his eyes. She was unimpressed with his title or the conquests, both in battle and of women, he enjoyed in abundance. She was never starry-eyed in his presence. William suspected Zachary found her a immense challenge, and respected her character to a degree he never had with a woman before. "Perhaps when we return you should try and see if she'll share a meal with you one evening instead of going after another card game."

"And perhaps you should try to find a nice girl to spend any sort of evening with at all," Zachary teased back in a good-natured fashion. While he intended to take his friends advice, he often worried that William himself saw so little of world outside his studies. He was brilliant in a way that often amazed Zachary, but when it came to personal relationships he seemed so shy and unsure of himself. As if his grand accomplishments hadn't saved the Knights and the kingdom countless times. "Science and magic cannot be your entire life, William."

"They have never disappointed me in the past. And can you party well into your elder years?"

"No more than you can spend all your time in your tower buried in books, my friend," Zachary replied. "When we return, if I ask Angela to dine with me one night, would you mind if I asked her if she had a single friend as well?"

"By the Gods, Zack. Have you no shame!"

"I meant for you, not me," Zachary couldn't help laughing. "My friend, you must lighten up before you die a miser. I fear finding you dead one day with ten thousand books, fifty cats, and having never seen a woman naked."

William shook his head with mirth dancing in his blue eyes. "I love you too, Zachary."

Adama rode beside Rockford, and when day evolved into night some time ago he still hadn't heard his best friend utter a single, solitary word. No doubt he was still upset with the Green Knight. "Rockford, for the last time I apologize for accusing you of switching those guards horses with camels. But you have to admit, it was the kind of thing you're known for."

Drinking deeply from his water satchel, Rockford swiped his hand over his mouth, and then turned to Adama. "Even so, am I forever the prankster who can never escape that title?"

"You spent years honing and perfecting that title."

"Perhaps I want a new title." Rockford rode a bit longer before speaking again. Certain things had been bothering him lately that only now he intended to voice out loud. "I'm nearing thirty seasons, Adama. I can't be the jokester forever. I'd like to enjoy some of the respect you and the other Knights do."

Adama didn't note a hint of mockery in his friends voice. He was being serious. "We all respect you, brother. But your ability to loosen us up relieves tension and helps us focus on the task at hand without being wound up tight. We need that lightheartedness. Your personality has been a blessing, silly as it is sometimes. I mean, how many Knights in the history of Knighthood have won back-to-back-to-back eating contests."

Rockford felt mildly offended. "I inherited a cast iron stomach from my dad."

"Then there was the night you proposed on behalf of Thomas to twenty women. That was a historic achievement."

"I have my moments," he laughed at himself.

"Let us never forget," Adama began, "The night you washed Jacen's clothing with that orderless liquid that attracted squirrels and other forest animals. I shall never forget for all my days hearing Dulcia laugh at the way goats tried to mate with him. That was the stuff of legends."

Rockford had to pat himself on the back for that one. "Perhaps so. But I still want to enjoy the respect of a serious Knight."

"It'll come, Rockford. Just give it time. And enter no more eating contests. That will help a great deal."

Rockford smiled, considering how he felt better after their little exchange. Then again, Adama seemed to always know what all of them needed to here. Nicknamed 'The Watcher,' he was tuned to all the Knights feelings and thoughts in a way only a quiet soul such as his could. Adama, in every way that counted to the lot of them, was the very heart of the team.

"Thomas?" Dulcia called out ahead, capturing his attention after a extended bit of quiet. "Are you alright?"

He sighed, shrugging. "Jacen refuses to talk about the situation with Catherine until the mission is done. I can't make him change his mind on that. In addition, I feel wired and I haven't been sleeping well lately. I sense something ominous is on the horizon. We are walking into the unknown and I have a bad feeling about it."

Dulcia understood. "I feel the same, my friend. Division and strife are growing in the kingdom, darkening the land. Ages come and pass, though I hope this peaceful one sees the rest of the seasons of my life."

Catching sight of something in the distance, Thomas retried a stiff leather tube of a looking glass from a hip holster. "That's Jacen's torch. He's found a camp site. Finally, this frigid night will end."

Dulcia reared her horse into a fast gallop once more. "Sadly, my friend. I fear this is only the beginning."

**********

**The Next Morning**

**********

**Alara Falls **

**A gorgeous waterfall from which plants with amazing healing properties grow **

**The Highlands **

**The land of Eltar **

**Early morning**

The only thing Skullovitch found more beautiful than a new day sunrise was the incredibly charming, capable woman riding beside him.

In a land renowned for immense hidden wealth, there was no greater treasure for him than time spent alone with Kimberly. Skullovitch didn't care in the least that he had to be up at the crack of dawn to accompany the leader of the Ranger's on her weekly expedition to Alara Falls. The possible dangers of traversing a path well-known for roving bands of thieves was small price to pay when he considered having her all to himself for a time. The opportunity to truly talk to her, or make her laugh, or share things about himself that she might not know were priceless moments in his life. Even though he knew that she considered him only a good friend and confidant, the longer he stayed within her inner circle the stronger his hope grew that one day she might notice the diamond in the rough.

Until then he'd play the role of nice guy who wasn't deeply in love with her, even though he was.

The heavy rushing waters of Alara Falls sounded in his ears just over the sprawling rocky ridge up ahead. The colorful plants that lived on the sparkling waters there possessed some of the most potent healing properties known in the kingdom. Healers from Eltar all the way to Despera itself often traveled here to capture the green and yellow Leviathan leaves. The Rangers, as skilled and deadly as they were, had all suffered a multitude of injuries since they began defending the Highlands. The healing herbs Bulkmier created for them was constantly in high demand.

As they traveled quietly along the path, Skullovitch stole glances at his lady love, mindful that she rarely noticed anyone who found her attractive. While he was happy for that small bit of knowledge, it never ceased to amaze him how she had no clue that she was lovely. Perhaps her character and the things that mattered most to her simply applied no weight to her looks. She either didn't care, or wasn't at all comfortable with the attention. Either way he lavished her with it, albeit without her notice.

It wasn't her beauty that made him fall in love with her. It was her tenacity... her relentless pursuit of justice, and her never-say-die attitude. She was brave and tough in a world that expected her to be soft and submissive to a degree. She was dangerous, and owned an almost unnatural grace with her sword. In his eyes that made her terribly sexy.

Sighing, Skullovitch inhaled a deep breath of fresh air while reminiscing on how he came to this very moment in his life. Having escaped an abusive home at thirteen seasons of age, he found a homeless Bulkmier by accident one evening while waiting for a nobleman's estate to throw out its left over food for the evening. Both men had no family to call their own, and became fast brothers and then partners. There was a natural chemistry of friendship and similar interest between them.

Nearly a season later Lady Luck finally called upon them when a kind carpenter named Sindler, long in age and skill, took the hard-working young boys into his home and trained them in the craft of his life. They became his students, and for him, he finally had the sons that life had never granted him.

For the next twelve seasons they were a family. A happy one, in fact. It was the first time in Skullovitch's life he felt safe and a part of something good. That was until the night a group of robbers invaded their home, and when Sindler wouldn't give up his hard earned gold was killed in front of them. The boys fought as hard as they could, but were bound and gagged. To make matters worse, they were forced to witness the loss of everything they knew and loved. Their home was burned to the ground, and once again the brothers were adrift in the world.

On the hard road for nearly a season, Bulkmier and Skullovitch came across a abandoned, decrepit church near a lake in the Highlands. Called Elspin by villagers nearby, they learned the church was set on fire because the minister and his flock refused to pay the unfair taxes Governess Divatox illegally placed on all houses of worship. A one-time shelter for the sick and needy, for orphans and the homeless, the boys saw a opportunity to take what their father taught them and turn his death into something good. For the next two seasons they rebuilt the church from the ground up all by themselves, although only the inside as they wanted no word of it's recreation to reach the Governess. They worked at a local tavern in U'slade Village, saving all their earnings while scavenging the surrounding area for anything thrown away they they could use as materials to rebuild the church.

And rebuild they did.

A season later, during one of the worst storms the Highlands had ever seen, four injured women sought refuge in their most desperate hour of need. Bulkmier and Skullovitch's life hasn't been the same since.

"You're quiet this morning."

Kimberly's soft voice broke through his trip down memory lane. Skullovitch shook his head free of the cob webs. He turned to her, grinning sheepishly. "I was riding asleep. Couldn't you tell?"

"Ha ha ha," Kimberly mocked him while negotiating a tricky section of the narrow dirt road that descended towards the falls. "Seriously though. Everything okay?"

He spared her his typical lopsided grin, and then offered her a gentlemanly tip of his head. She smiled brightly, and owned his heart so completely he swore she had to know. And if she didn't he hoped he could find the courage one day to reveal it to her. Maybe one day when her heart finally looked upon him with new eyes. "I'm well, just enjoying the fine weather... and the good company."

Kimberly nodded, and perhaps blushed a tiny bit. She was well aware of his romantic feelings toward her, and found his interest sweet. There were times she honestly wished she felt a spark for him, as she truly loved him. But only as a friend, and she was certain that would never change. Still, his interest did wonders for making her feel like a woman when recent years had all but killed that side of her. "So you're not regretting getting out of bed before sunrise to pick plants?"

"I'm the kind of guy who gets up early anyway." No, he wasn't. "I like looking out my window and seeing the sunrise." He normally shuts the curtains tighter, throws his blanket over his head, and goes back to bed. "Nothing feels as good as picking plants first thing in the morning. I find it refreshing." His idea of refreshing was a big cup of ale after a long day of work.

Kimberly knew better. "Skullovitch, I don't believe you for a second."

"You're not a mind-reader, so you'll never know," he sent her his best smile. He was well aware that he wasn't the best looking guy in the world, nor was he rippling with muscles... or a title... or wealth, land, or a prestigious education. But he was damn good with building anything, and as clever a man as there was. He and Bulkmier designed tons of small weapons, gadgets, and potions for the girls when they went out at night. They designed the light-weight armor they wore beneath their dark cloaks, and prepared all their weapons and horses. He was trustworthy beyond measure, and he never lied. He kept his word, and was so appreciative that meant something to Kimberly.

If Skullovitch had any hope at all of winning her heart, he was sure of all the things he didn't have, he had character in spades.

"We're here," Kimberly declared over the loudly rushing waters of Alara Falls. The massive brownstone mountain gave way to a gorgeous sparkling pool below. All around the edges were hundreds of green and yellow Leviathan plants. Not many sights in all of the Highlands compared to this natural wonder. For her, there was a peace to be found here unlike any she knew of in the world. "So where should we begin?"

"How long do you think you'll want to do what you're doing?" Skullovitch asked out of the blue while dismounting his horse. "Being a Ranger, I mean."

His question caught her off guard for certain. Upon dismounting from her horse, she led the animal to where Skullovitch was tying his up to Timber tree. "For all the injustice and cruelty I've seen in my life, I just can't sit back and watch it take place any longer. Someone has to do something, and it might as well be me. As for walking away from it... being a Ranger fulfills something in me I didn't even know I needed. I know the work we do matters. I know we help people. And I'm not sure I can walk away. I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees."

Her courage was but one of the many things he loved about her. "But don't you ever want a normal life?" he asked as they made their way down by the pool to collect the plants. He kicked a rock or two to keep things casual, all the while trying to ascertain how she saw her future someday. "Maybe get married one day... have a family of your own?"

"I'm.... I'm just not sure that's a future for me." She paused briefly, and then revealed her most vulnerable secret. "I feel broken, Skullovitch. My time as a slave robbed me of what it must feel like to be a woman. Sometimes I just don't think I can be normal. I'm far more at ease with a sword in my hand than a hairbrush. I don't know how to be the little woman who defers to her guy or acts all cutesy. I know ten ways to kill someone with my bare hands, but I don't even know how to wear a dress properly. I know nothing of make-up or romance. And I'm not sure that I want to."

Skullovitch was dying to offer to help her master each and every one of those things. But that would be rushing things to fast. For now, he felt honored that she trusted him enough to reveal her inner-most thoughts. It was a start. "The one constant in life is that it changes, Kimberly. One day things are one way, and then the next they can be totally different. Feelings are similar as well. You just never know what may happen. Nothings impossible, you know."

He was being sweet and hopeful. But his hope for them simply would never be. Still, Kimberly knew that she had never led him on, and that she treated him like she loved him because she truly did. His friendship meant the world to her. She only hoped he would still value hers when the sad day came that she would have to explain to him as dearly as she knew she could trust her heart to him, she could never give it to him. "You never know, I guess."

"Look... there's a falcon over there. You don't see them often in these parts"

"I see them often in my dreams. I only wish I knew why," Kimberly smiled to herself while loading up her basket.

******

******

**Castle Serpentera **

**Located in forgotten hills of Escarabia **

**The land of Despera **

**The Dead of Night**

Exhaling a final satisfying moan, Zedd slumped over Empress Ritalia's naked form from behind, the cool metal of his mask resting over her shoulder blade. Their bodies heaved for air as one, sweat glistening over their skin. The sheets, pillows, and blankets were strewn all the floor because where their primal lust began often wasn't where it ended. After a short time they crawled back over the mahogany king-sized bed, occupying the center.

A lantern's ethereal glow bathed their bodies in amber firelight, while the raw scent of Zedd's master bedroom reeked of their aggressive passion. "My dearest Empress, you belong to me and me alone."

From the darkest spark of light within her soul, she truly did. It was an accepted proclamation. She reveled in his possessiveness, all the while tightly clutching her own. The servant lover he had taken while she was away once... she personally carved the pretty little girl's her heart out of her chest. Empress Ritalia was the very definition of deadly. Alas, her own death awaited her if this illicit affair ever came to the knowledge of her husband, Lord Baron Rancore. She only hoped death visited him first. That was a long overdue meeting as far as she was concerned. "You presume much."

"Oh, I am certain you are mine," Zedd boldly declared while leaning over her on his elbow. A calloused hand gently grazed over her shapely bare thigh. "My blade would have words with any man who thought otherwise."

She graced him with a lip-curling smirk. "Say that to my husband."

"Someday I shall when he draws his last breath at my feet. Until then I shall enjoy his wife and her hunger for being taken from behind like a animal."

"You're a beast, Zedd," she laughed while gazing at the intricately painted, battle-inspired mural art of the ceiling. Depicting the last stand of seven Pyverian warrior who held two hundred Draco warlords at bay for ten days while starving to death. They were the story of legend and such grand perseverance against unspeakable odds. Zedd admired few things in life, but he held great respect for those never-say-die warriors. He saw himself in them. "We're playing a dangerous game, my love."

"Life isn't worth living without the possibility of losing it, Ritalia. Everythings a game of chance." Zedd rose from the bed, donning his clothing off the floor before pouring himself a drink from a crystal-bottle of Desperain Ale. With but a dip of his chin, his mask allowed him access to his mouth from below it. He then walked towards the twin iron doors that opened to a stone rooftop patio. Clear skies and a full moon greeted him. He sighed. That was a bad omen in Despera. "I don't fear Rancore."

Ritalia's gaze found enchantment in the half-melted candles set beside the bed. She loved watching things burn. "You don't fear anything. But that doesn't make you immortal."

"I am no coward."

"A coward tells the tale of how a brave man died."

"Then he should slit his throat afterwards."

"You are such a romantic." She listened to the hollow sound of his breathing behind that awful metal mask he wore. It was the one thing... the only thing he had ever denied her. Something as simple as how his face looked. She knew of his encounter with the young Knight Thomas, and how one fierce blow nearly severed Zedd's face in two. Healers literally stitched his face back together, scarring him for all time. That was why Sir Thomas's suffering was Zedd's only goal in life. "You can take your mask off in my presence. I don't mind your scars."

The sound he made was neither sad nor indifferent. It was almost thoughtful. "If only the outward ones mattered..."

He was a tortured being that felt the entire world should know his pain. Ritalia accepted her request as a battle for her to win on another day. For now she admired the broad cut of his strong shoulders, and the chiseled frame that claimed the lives of his enemies. Battle scars scissored across his back and neck. Zedd was built like a iron-reinforced wall with legs. There was no part of him that was soft. No side of him that echoed even the hint of a child. He was a man made for and by war. He was a man made for her alone. "My husband's rantings about the Dark Ones are approaching madness. He is never without the Eye of Zion these days. He truly believes he can find Zion and the secret to steal the Dark Ones power."

Suddenly, the loud crack of a glass crashing against the wall erupted around the bedroom.

Zedd's anger had erupted once more. His voice grew tight. "Magic... my distaste for it grows by the day. Oh what I would give to rid the world of it forever," he argued upon re-entering the bedroom, and then leaning against a marble column. "Once upon a time the sword and shield were law. All of the strength that you owned were in the palm of your hands. And then magic was introduced into our world, allowing cowards and infidels to capture crowns and kingdoms. The weak were given a weapon to use against the strong, and now we are all at the mercy of who's magic was the most powerful. Now Lord Baron Rancore unquenchable thirst for magic power seeks to ruin the world by going after the Dark Ones."

"If they even existed."

"I won't let him take the risk," Zedd countered with a finger pointed her way. "I have known warriors far older than I who would kill a man for even mentioning the Dark Ones out loud. Elks and Ogres who had two hundred plus seasons of life under their belts. They know things, Ritalia. Dark things... and I heed their warnings well. Remember how my second, Goldar, reacted when Rancore spoke of the Dark Ones?"

Ritalia clasped her jeweled necklace around her neck. "I was surprised he wasn't killed that very moment."

"As was I." Zedd toured the master bedroom methodically with his hands clasped behind his back. "Rancore thinks this Eye of Zion is the key to him becoming a God, but I see it as the path to his ultimate destruction. I only need to learn if he is truly close to discovering the Dark Ones, or on another mad trek that will produce nothing in the end."

Sitting up in bed, Ritalia stretched her legs while following Zedd around the room with her brown eyes. "He won't even confide in me anymore. He only trusts his mystics."

"Wise man."

"Don't make me smite you." She had a feeling that even behind that smooth reflective mask, he might of smiled... just a little. His eyes said it all. Though she was a sorceress and he loathed magic, he held a great deal of affection for her and her alone. "Enough talk of mystics and the end of days. Can we possibly get some hot food up here before I have to depart?"

"I'll have Phinster inform the cooks we require nourishment."

"You still haven't beheaded that little Rat-man yet?"

Zedd gave a slow shake of his head. "That Rat-man, as you call him, is nothing short of a genius. He designed the tunnel system you used to get here, and a number of the weapons I take in battle. He is as clever as they come, and most importantly, loyal. Like Goldar, he would die on my command. Men like him are few and far between in the world today."

Ritalia finished dressing, now running a antique brush through her long, dark locks. "I sensed a certain honor in Goldar."

"Blood-lust, more than likely. Still, he is as close to family as I have ever had in my thirty-seven seasons of life."

"Family... I wouldn't know." Her own had been splintered when she was very young. A brother lost for all time, she surmised. Thoughts of that nature were quickly shoved aside. Sentiments were for lesser beings. Before they could continue their conversation, two thunderous knocks came at the bedroom door, followed by Goldar's deep voice calling out to Zedd. "Looks like we have company."

Marching across the room, Zedd swung the heavy door open, finding his second-in-command standing before him with sword in hand. "Is there news?"

"Yes indeed," Goldar replied. "Our spy at Castle Horde has brought word of Lord Rancore sending a second battalion of soldiers and mystics into the Highlands."

Clenching his hands into fists, Zedd stormed towards his weapons closet, retrieving his sword. "What is their mission?"

Goldar acknowledged the Empress with a bow. "Unknown at this time. But if Rancore chose not to send us after our last successful mission there..."

"Then he may fear our absolute loyalty to him," Zedd finished before coming to stand with Empress Ritalia. "Anything else?"

"Our spies at Castle Bastion have learned that the Grand Knights... all of them have been dispatched to the Highlands on a secret mission. The details of which we do not know."

"The Knights... Thomas will be with them," Zedd seethed to himself, his hand curling tighter around the handle of his sword. From the very pit of his stomach he sensed events were in motion that would change the world forever. "Have Phinster prepare our two best horses for a long journey. I trust no one with learning of what is taking place in the Highlands. I wish to uncover that mystery myself. We will ride out at first light, Goldar. We will live in the shadows while the Kingdoms of Despera and Eltar converge upon each other. And then we will seize the day when they least expect it."

"I'll craft a tale that you are seeking treasure near the Pitts," Empress Ritalia interrupted. "He won't question your disappearance."

"He looks down upon me with contempt... as if I am beneath his notice. But he can keep his jewels. I want his throne. And I will have it. The age of Lord Zedd is coming and there is nothing he can do to stop it."

******

******

**The Coast of Lake Angels **

**Not far from Graymalken Road **

**The Highlands **

**The land of Eltar **

**Early Evening**

As day began fading into twilight, a misty rainfall swept over the timber tree-lined coast of Lake Angels. But as the bright sun descended once more, a vile tragedy was unfolding.

"Please... please don't hurt my family," Kalis begged tearfully while cradling her dead husband in her slender arms on the ground. She clutched onto him with all her might, as if she could somehow will him back to life with her love. Alas, the gaping wound in his chest bled until his last gasping breath. Now shadowed by her two terrified young daughters and both of them shattered by the horror they had just witnessed,  
she could only think of their safety. "Leave us be. Take anything you want. You can have it all, but please leave us alone!"

"Take anything I want, you say..." Amidst the bellowing cackles of his rowdy men, Draven ran calloused fingers over his thick, black beard while towering over the grieving family. To look at him was to know he was the living embodiment of intimidation, his powerful build complimented by the vacant coldness of his dark eyes and utter lack of caring in his tone of voice. The longsword resting on his hip was still wet with the fresh blood of the man he just murdered for trying to protect his family. Towering in front of the campfire, he graced the grieving woman with a wretched appraisal of her female form. "Yes.  
We might be able to work out a little something, milady."

Dread mixed with pure disgust broiled inside Kalis' stomach. She was well aware of what cowardly, evil men like him had in mind from women they captured. What was supposed to be a temporary family camping spot for the night on their trek to Sessel had turned into a horrible nightmare when they were discovered by this band of recently escaped criminals. Her husband stood bravely against them, but it was six against one. He hadn't stood a chance, and now all that she could do as a mother was think of how best to protect her children. Her body, never mind the damage to her soul, was a small price to pay to insure her children's safety. "I'll... I'll do whatever you want, but don't touch my children." She painfully gritted her teeth when Draven caressed the side of her face with the back of his hand. The expression he wore was as perverted as she was sure his intentions were. "I'll do anything," she reiterated with direct eye contact that conveyed her meaning.

Flanked by the five other former prisoners, Draven found the woman's soft, petite form most enchanting. He hadn't been with a woman in well over two full seasons of incarceration, and this one would certainly be a delicious delight. Her long brown hair and matching eyes weren't stained by age or hard living. She appeared barely over thirty seasons old, and he was sure she'd make a fine piece of 'entertainment' for the evening. Just so long as he got her first. "I won't touch your pretty little girls," he nodded while mocking sincerity, bending down on one knee to gaze into her eyes. "But I may sell them. Little girls are in high demand in Vici. Brothels are always looking for fresh whores to train."

"YOU BASTARD!" Kalis screamed at him. Draven back-handed her so hard her lip split, with blood trickling down her neck onto her husband's face. Her children cried out, but she quickly held them back. No matter her rage, this was all about their survival now. Her husband's knife was in his back pocket. She could feel the hilt of it against her hand. It was all the hope that she had left. "You will not EVER touch my children while I'm alive!"

Draven tilted his head to the side, grinning evilly. He could feel the stirrings of arousal in his groin. "When we're done raping you to death..." Suddenly, rustling sounds could be heard all around them from behind the trees, despite a lack of a brisk wind. Something was moving ominously in the shadows. Draven and his men hurriedly drew their swords, effectively forming a defensive circle. "Keep your eyes open boys. We're not alone here."

It did them no good.

"PHANTOMS!!!" shouted one of the men before he was kicked so hard his head snapped back against a tree, knocking him unconscious as he crumbled to the ground. Draven and his men were overwhelmed so quickly and so brutally that they didn't even know how many enemies they were fighting. The Phantoms simply appeared out of the darkness, as their growing legend foretold. Their amazing sword skill was a blur of razor-sharp steel that disarmed their enemies with vicious efficiency.

Trinity, Kaiesha, and Titanya were already binding the wrists and ankles of the escaped men. Not long ago Bulkmier had rushed back to the church with news of the escaped prisoners from a U'selade prison camp. Unfortunately, the Rangers were too late to save everyone.

While keeping a close eye on the grieving family huddled together against their wagon, Kimberly of Hart snaked her sword to the tender throat of the man she considered the leader of this group. Draven cowered on his knees, shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm before the dark specter. She watched his mouth moving, but his pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. Only the heart-wrenching sounds of the children crying and the somber grief upon the mother's face spoke to her with deadly whispers. The leader of the Rangers desired to slay this man more than she had ever wanted anything before. With but a flick of her wrist she could make him bleed so fast he'd die almost instantly. Or, if she curled her blade along the bottom half of his neck, he would bleed for a time, suffering before death set in.

Her heartbeat quickened as the sharpness of her blade dug ever so gently into Draven's neck, drawing a droplet of crimson that slowly descended his throat. This man was a murderer and rapist from what Bulkmier told her. She'd heard the leader threaten to sell the children into prostitution at a brothel. That alone was reason enough for him to die. There were more crimes he'd committed for certain, but those two were more than enough.

Who in the world would possibly miss this piece of garbage? And didn't he deserve to die as painfully as possible?

Anger and rage were growing colder within Kimberly of Hart's soul by the day. There were times she felt as though she was waging a losing battle when faced with dealing justice to men like him. There seemed no end to their greed or blood-lust. Still, there was enough of her mother's genuine love left in her to ward off the darkness... for now.

With the other Rangers silently looking on, Kimberly slowly withdrew her sword, and then whistled for her horse. It came barreling through the bushes. She quickly mounted it once more, as the other Rangers did with theirs. Cloaked in black attire that resembled damnation, she addressed the grieving widow. "We are Rangers, not Phantoms. Tell people about us. Tell them we rule the Highlands now. Crime will not go unpunished. Take your family and go. Leave this place and never look back." Retrieving a satchel filled with gold coins, she threw it at the feet of the woman. It would offer her no comfort or joy this night or any other, but it might buy her and her daughters a new start in a safe place. It was the least that she could do.

"Thank you." Kalis pressed a final kiss upon her husband's brow, and then gently shut his eyes with her fingers. She whispered something soft and personal to him, and then the mother within her rose to her feet. She had to get her children out of here now. Taking the satchel off the ground, she spoke to the girls briefly, but with fire in her voice.

"What's going on here?"

A man's deep voice drew the attention of the Rangers as they all turned their heads to catch sight of several riders approaching at a fast gallop. The one who spoke, a muscular man with short dark hair drew his sword. A Nubian man and another, both dressed in commoners clothing, leapt from their horses to come to the aid of the family. Kimberly considered they must be part of the search party after the escaped prisoners. The family would get the help they needed. Their work was done. "Depart and scatter!!!"

Thomas watched the Phantoms race off into the night, but kept his eyes on the one who he heard give the orders. "AFTER THEM NOW!" Jacen, Dulcia, Rockford, and William pursued the three Phantoms down one off-trail path. Breaking his horse into a hard sprint, Thomas chased the cloaked leader through darkest patch of dense forest he had ever seen. "I'M ON THE LEADER!"

The hunt had begun!

******

Heavy rainfall fell silent as a celestial feast of bright stars opened in the heavens, breathing new life into the forest shadows below.

Trinity, Kaiesha, and Titanya rode their horses hard through the thick groves of trees, weaving up dirt hills and around a stone creek bed before leading their pursuers over a narrow, timber-wood bridge that shook from the sheer force of their speed. The Rangers roared around a breathtakingly majestic, ruddy-hued sandstone formation that towered roughly as high as a castle, and were still unable to shake their pursuers. The frantic, non-stop chase left no doubt in the Ranger's minds that they were the hunted tonight.

For them, the feeling was foreign to say the least.

While tightly clenching the reins, Trinity kept close watch over the strangers after them, mindful of the immense skill they were showing in keeping up with them. Either they were well versed in these woods,  
or damn good at what they did. She was starting to believe they weren't from Sessel at all. "Lead them through the Gromor cave up ahead! We'll lose them in the maze!"

"I'm with you!" Titanya declared, right on Trinity's heel.

"I say we stop now and kick their asses!" Kaiesha shouted above the thunderous horse gallop they were in.

Under normal circumstances, Trinity would be all for it. But for some unknown reason, she had a bad feeling about tonight. Something was off, somehow. The people chasing them tonight seemed relentless, and without fear. "Not yet! I don't think they're from around here!"

With a flock of nocturnal birds flying overhead, Jacen's horse leapt up a small hill, with Dulcia following closely behind. From what he could tell so far, these so-called Phantoms hadn't used any sort of magic to turn the Knights pursuit away. They looked to be expert riders, but all too human beneath their garish costumes. Whatever their secrets were, he intended to learn them all tonight. "They're heading into that cave up ahead! Keep your eyes open!"

"One or both of them!"

"Rockford!" Jacen would have smiled if he weren't so focused on the task at hand. He watched the Phantoms enter the dark limestone cavern mouth shaped like a huge horseshoe. "William, a spell for firelight!"

Reaching into his side pocket, William retrieved a sparkling red crystal. Upon reaching the cavern's rocky entrance, he tossed it inside ahead of them, and then chanted, "Fire Jewel of Telsafa, light our way!!!"

"What the hell was that?!" Kaiesha swore when a soft amber glow illuminated the entire cave from behind them to far up ahead. Though she had the cavern's maze memorized to the point that she could navigate a horse through it blindfolded, she'd never seen it so brightly lit. "Damn mystics!"

"Pay them no mind!" Titanya shouted while pushing her horse faster. "Take the winding left pass. We'll lose them there!"

Natural cave rock lined the fast narrowing tunnel the Knights pursued their elusive targets after. Short passages angled left and then right so swiftly it made for a very dangerous journey. Massive rock pillars gave off ominous shadows all around them when they reached an open section of the cave with five individual cave paths ahead of them Dulcia pulled her horse to a full stop, and then quickly surveyed the ground. "There's more trampled dirt to the left. But it's hard to be certain with the grounds whithered conditions."

"It could be a trap," Jacen noted. "What does your gut say?"

"Caution," Dulcia answered.

"Not me. What's life without some life-threatening adventure," Rockford joked before racing off down the left passage, with the other Knights closing in behind him a moment later. The passage curled several times unlike any cave they had ever seen before, but their level of expertise at tracking was legendary. No one got away from them.

The Rangers pressed forward to escape their trackers, riding as fast as they could around the last bend. Nearing the wide exit of the cave ahead, Titanya could hear the galloping footsteps of horses behind them. "By the Gods, they're still after us!"

"Then we take them here!" Last to exit the cave, Kaiesha pulled a curved dagger from her hip holster and threw it it at an embedded lever on the right side of the cavern opening. The blade hit its mark,  
severing a very thick rope that caused two massive tree trunks to swing from opposite sides of the exit, effectively closing it off. Thanks to Bulkmier and Skullovitch, there were traps and caches of weapons and supplies hidden all over the forest.

"Ahead!" William called out. "The exit is blocked!"

"It won't be for long!" Dulcia deftly reached for her bow and a exploding arrow. Using her legs to lead the horse forward, she quickly pinched the arrow head, causing it to steam. She set her shot, aimed,  
and fired at the obstruction. A deafening blast sent gusts of splinters and bark everywhere as the Knights came raging out of the cave through a thick cloud of smoke.

In the clearing ahead, all three Phantoms stood ready, their swords raised for battle. A full white moon glowing overhead.

Jacen drew his horse to a full stop. "Take off your cloaks and surrender!" he ordered. They stood their ground, ready for a fight. "I guess we do this the hard way."

The Knights dismounted their horses as the Rangers charged in!

*******

Taking place simultaneously

*******

Predator and prey...

At the cusp of a narrow, steep canyon, they both traversed the rough terrain with such raw determination, the sounds of hooves digging into the dirt was like thunder! They deftly negotiated crumbling pathways clinging to the edge of near-vertical ravine like wild animals tearing through the night.

Charging her horse at breakneck speeds through the darkest corners of the forest, Kimberly of Hart felt deeply challenged by her pursuer's relentlessness. Fire scorched through her veins as the level of intrigue she experienced rivaled any she'd ever felt before. There was something dangerously dynamic about this man hunting her. Something that stirred her emotions. He was obviously an amazing horseman, and a skilled tracker. Whoever he was, when she bested him, she intended to learn his identity.

While finally closing the gap between himself and the rider up ahead, Thomas kept the Phantom's horse in his sights. The loose, unmaintained trails were treacherous, but unavoidable as he had no intention of allowing his quarry to slip through his grasp. Wild coyote howls bellowed in the distance, adding to the already animalistic battle of wills they waged. Whoever this Phantom was, Thomas sensed its risky,  
reckless persona. It rode without fear, and better than any rider he had ever seen before. When at last he captured the Phantom, it would reveal itself to him in every way.

At the cusp of a wishbone of mountainous terrain straddling a nearby lake, their horses rushed through the shallow waters to the other side, blazing back into the darkest regions of the forest. Thomas lost sight of the Phantom for a heartbeat... and then saw its horse, now riderless, dead ahead as rain swept heavily from the heavens once more.

Upon pulling his horse to a full stop, Thomas looked up only to find the Phantom leaping from a high tree branch. It barreled into him, knocking him clear off his horse into the dirt as they tumbled over the ground.

The Knight scrambled to his feet, only to catch a vicious blow to the face that knocked one of his teeth loose. He quickly ducked a second punch, and when his eyes opened, he found that the Phantom's cloak had fallen from its head... and revealed a woman to his eyes. A woman so devastatingly striking he blinked fast in succession as the rains poured down on him. The only word that found its way to his mouth was, "Beautiful..."

Snarling, Kimberly struck him again, only to recoil painfully when he slammed his forehead into hers, knocking her off her feet. Her head throbbed painfully as she kept her gaze trained on her enemy. The distance created when she rolled away allowed her to draw her sword, now matching his own pose. "Tell me who you are and I might let you live?"

"Surrender and I might let you live."

"Never!" With a smirk daring the corners of her mouth, Kimberly stepped forward and declared, "To the death?"

Fearless as ever, Thomas raised his sword high. "If that is your destiny."

Their blades clashed in a fury of cutthroat savagery!

******

As if a tribal war drum beat thunderously in the night, the violent chain reaction of blade crashing against blade erupted as Knights and Rangers did battle.

In a burst of agility, Trinity vaulted over Jacen's and Dulcia's heads. Upon landing, she quickly shook a small glass vial into her hand and then threw it at the female swordsman. The vial exploded in a flash of light, blinding Dulcia a second before Trinity's razor-sharp blade clashed with Jacen's. Dulcia screamed in agony while rubbing her eyes. Jacen and Trinity attacked each other with an onslaught of wild attacks, sword-fighting with pure venom.

Evading a fierce roundhouse kick, Jacen swung his sword with such aggression the blade severed part of his opponents cloak, narrowly missing its head. Trinity kicked his leg out from under him, hurtling the large man to the ground hard. She brought her blade high, ready to stab into his chest when Dulcia's blade crossed her own, blocking the blow.

"None of mine will die this night, Phantom!" Dulcia swore while gripping her blade.

Trinity held silent, and then assaulted Dulcia with a blinding array of rapid slashes and and spinning cuts that soon included Jacen in the mix. The booming clang of metal swords ruled as the three of them tempted death with every strike they made.

"I don't suppose we could talk this out?" Rockford questioned with a hint of a smirk while circling one of the Phantoms. "Look, I'm a easy going kind of guy. I've found many disagreements can be solved with a good bottle of ale and...". If he'd finished that sentenced the sword attempting to behead him would have succeeded. Kaisha pressed a bombardment of powerful, lunging strikes that sent Rockford backwards until he was pressed up against a huge tree trunk. "I know it might seem as though you have the advantage, and if that's what you think, then you're right. But that offer of a drink is still..."

The second attempted beheading slash saw Kaiesha's blade get stuck in the side of the tree. She struggled to tear it free, and was nailed with a swift kick to her stomach. The blow shoved her backwards, giving Rockford the opportunity he was waiting for. He advanced in a rush, grabbed the collar of the Phantom's cloak and threw it off its head, prepared to cave his fist in its jaw.

"Woah! You're a girl," he declared in a shocked voice, tilting his head. "And you're hot."

Giving him a unconscious once over, despite the fact that he possessed a cute smile, Kaisha taunted, "Now that that's out of the way," she nailed him with a barbaric kick between his legs, the force of with which crumbled the Knight to his knees, "I don't drink ale."

Dodging smoking fireballs from a mystic wearing commoners clothes was not the way Titanya had hope to end her night. Nonetheless, to keep from being set on fire, she used the thick shrubs as cover, leaping and diving all over the place as the forest was promptly set ablaze. She couldn't seem to get close enough to William. But more important than that, she knew that he knew he had her on the run. If his intent was to kill her, he would have done so by now, and moments into their sword fight, she realized her skills with the blade far exceeded his own. Once he started with the magic, she was vastly outclassed.

Roaring flames circled the battlefield now as Titanya witnessed her sisters fighting for their very lives. Suddenly she saw a towering tree that was about to fall as the fire had ruined its base. It was about to kill the man who had started the blaze. Her body moved without thinking, rushing towards her attacker.

William spun on his heel at the last second, and when he saw the Phantom advancing he was sure he was dead. No time for a spell or to even draw his sword. The air flew from his lungs when she tackled him out of the way of the falling tree. Upon landing, his Royal Eltarian Emblem necklace broke free from beneath his shirt, dangling over his shirt.

When the gold caught her attention, Titanya's eyes widened upon noticing the jewelry. Her hand lifted it while still around his neck. She swiftly tore off her hood off. "You're a Knight?"

Staring at her, William gasped for breath."You're a woman?"

Exhausted, bruised, and out of tricks up her sleeve, Trinity managed her blade at the Dulcia's neck, while the cold steel belonging to the Jacen chilled her throat. Her back was to a hulking, jagged rock. This was it. Death had finally come for her. The end of the road. Her chest heaved while she waited. "If I die, I'm taking her with me."

"There's no need for that, Trinity," Titanya called out while putting away her sword. "They're Knights. All of them. I think we all need to have a long talk."

Upon seeing the faces of Kaiesha and Titanya, Jacen sheathed his sword. He faced the still cloaked Phantom. "We thought you'd just attacked that family back there."

Tossing back her dark hood as the rains finally stalled, Trinity corrected him. "We saved their lives... all except the husband. We thought you were officers looking for the escaped prisoners who attacked the family."

Sir William swore silently under his breath, his blue eyes having never observed anything more captivating than the sight of the enchanting woman before him. Her long, dark hair flowed down her back... possessing the most alluring, exotic features he'd ever had the pleasure to witness. She was a revelation to him. Nothing he had ever read in the countless books he owned had ever prepared him for this.

She was... exquisite.

Dulcia put away her sword, surveying the scene. "William, put an end to this fire." She turned her back as the Knight whispered words that sent forth powerful gusts of cold wind, blustering their clothes about their bodies in the clearing. "I don't know who any of you are, but we're Knights sent by King Zordon to investigate events in the Highlands. Now state your purpose."

Trinity strode toward her, with Titanya and Kaiesha shadowing. "We're the Rangers. Our purpose, as you put it, is to uphold justice and protect the people of the Highlands. You can thank us later for doing your jobs."

Catching sight of Dulcia's insulted scowl, Jacen quickly intervened. He turned to Trinity. "Your friend out there... is she by any chance high strung?"

Thinking of herself with a slightly worried expression, Trinity replied, "Is yours?"

With but a knowing look shared between them, Jacen and Trinity ran for their horses, the others quickly following.

******

Rain-soaked clear through their clothing, the hypnotic ferocity of Thomas and Kimberly's violent sword war raged on across the muddy canvas of the forest. Banter ceased to exist between the skilled combatants as they leapt and whirled around each other, touching down with perfect balance only to advance with fury once more. Murder interlaced with venomous passion reigned supreme as their swords waged a brutal campaign to kill each other.

The perfect synchrony of Kimberly's sweeping slash narrowly missed taking Thomas' head off his shoulders. Shifting his body sideways at an almost impossible angle, he evaded the end of his life. Her lip split with the sheer force of his closed-fist backhand reply, the taste of blood ghosting her tongue. She quickly shoved the pain aside, her blade flashing faster than the eye could see as she pressed his overconfidence with a masterful onslaught of lunging attacks, driving Thomas backward step after step until his shoulders hit the the broadside of a towering timber tree.

Raising his sword at the last possible second, Thomas locked her blade a hands breadth away from his throat. Droplets of moisture cascaded down his face while they stared into each other's eyes. The storm drowned them in heavy rain. "You're good, but you have no hope. I sense fear in you."

"I fear nothing because I believe nothing is out of my ability to change." Kimberly pressed harder with her sword towards his throat. "Such as relieving the burden of your head from your shoulders."

With a sudden head fake, Thomas drew her expected slice, parrying the blow, effectively knocking her off balance. Using his superior height and strength, he let all traces of his humanity fall aside to ravage her with pure barbarous power, smacking her swift attacks left and right with such force she could never set her feet to properly counter-attack. "I fought and bled in the Great War years before my twentieth season"  
His mastery of swordplay kept her off balance as she retreated from his hostile assault. "I've crippled seven Kraven Warlords and conquered the sword masters of Tezlera!" His blade lashed out like booming thunder, hammering against her superior speed with a type of raw tenacity she'd never seen before. He stalked her now, enjoying the sight of her retreat. "What have you done, little one? Bested a couple of the locals so that you could carve a name for your self at the taverns across the land?" he smirked, drawing her renewed rage. "As for me, I am undefeated. I have no equal in this world or any other. I have never lost."

"Then I am pleased to be the first." With her breath coming short and hard, Kimberly of Hart switched tactics. Her foot swiped a pile of wet dirt into his eyes. The stinging howl he emitted gave her room to soar over his head in a forward tucked flip and then carve a bloody gash straight down his back with her sword. The agony of his scream was music to her ears. Wasting no time, she went in for the kill, only to have her sword lifted high above her head when he at the last second blocked the thrust. Thomas nailed a wild kick to her chest,  
knocking the wind clear out of her lungs.

While barreling backwards, Kimberly withdrew a slender black dagger from her boot and threw it at Thomas. The razor-sharp blade dug deep into his right shoulder, injuring him further. This was her shot to end this. "Are you ready to die?"

His teeth gritted when he removed the weapon from the wound it created. "Since the day I was born!"

With a white-hot furnace where her heart should be, Kimberly's sword moved simultaneously with her will. Her enemy was hurt and bleeding badly. Her attack came like lightening, their swords dancing with sparks as she twirled and rocked on her feet at awkward angles to keep him off balance. Showcasing her nimble agility, she cartwheeled out of his line of sight, only to feel the skin of her forearm rip open, courtesy of his sword slashing across her arm. Thunder crackled above them as they traded blows, with Kimberly's fist battering his face until he drove a punishing knee into her gut, doubling her over.

Thomas raised his sword to drive it into her back. "Say goodnight!"

"No! Say hi to a sunrise!" The small vile she removed from her cloak glowed when she shook it and then threw it at his face. The brilliant flash of light caused his vision to evaporate as he stumbled backwards, tripping over a long tree branch. Predator was now prey as Kimberly stalked after him. "This ends now!"

"Never!" Thomas dodged her deadly slash, back-flipping back to his feet, and then again over the branch onto the remnants of a old tree trunk. Kimberly leapt over the branch a well. They swiftly spun and fought throughout the forest clearing, their boots digging into and tearing the muddy grounds beneath them. Hacking at each other, Thomas severed half a Timber tree in hunting Kimberly, only to duck an attack that snacked a ragged chunk of bark from the tree.

Kimberly deftly back-flipped three times in succession until she reached another statuesque Timber-tree. She quickly climbed up the side of it.

"Come down here and fight like a man!!!"

"I don't suppose you'd come up here and fight like a girl?" she retorted, only coming down from the tree when he threw one of her daggers directly at her head.

Their savage skirmish had escalated into a bloodthirsty battle of sword-wielding combatants with murderous intent. Their dance was quickly drawing to a conclusion as both were bleeding badly and exhausted.  
Kimberly threw another dagger at Thomas, who deflected it with his sword while boldly charging after her. He slammed his shoulder into her stomach, knocking her clear off of her feet to the ground. Kimberly rolled with him, using his momentum to fling him over her head. She back-flipped to her feet, turned around and threw her sword at Thomas.

The Knight showed why he was one of the very best ever. Dropping his shoulder one time allowed him to not only survive, but see Kimberly without the cloak or a sword in her hand. Her blade whizzed by him,  
failing to hit it's intended target. What was worse, he grabbed the hilt of the sword, now brandishing both. "Are you ready to concede defeat,  
little one?"

"Clever. Oh, and my the way. My name isn't little one. It's Kimberly."

When the rains slowed and the full moon peeked out from behind the clouds, she silently swore she'd never seen a more gorgeous man in all life. Handsome... and deadly. Pity they were actively trying to kill each other. This one... there was fire in him. She could see it in his eyes. No matter his good looks, she waited patiently as he seemed curious about her as well. Smiling, she watched smoke rise from his hand as he was suddenly forced to drop it. The sword's handle burned hot, and then cooled as it hit the ground. "A mystic cursed my sword for me. None may wield it except I."

Thomas kicked his foot beneath the length of the blade, and then deflected it back to Kimberly's hand, watching as she caught it in mid air. "When I beat you, it will make a fine addition to my collection."

"Cocky, I see. That'll get you killed." She raised her sword at a high angle, prepared to strike. "By the way, my name is Thomas."

"Did I ask?"

Yeah, that pissed him off. He came at her dead on. Their blades clashed and clanged with renewed vigor, slashing and grinding their way through a final brutal assault that saw Kimberly and Thomas lose their footing on a wet, muddy slanted side of a hill. They tumbled and rolled all the way down until they reached the edge of a deep ravine.

Kimberly grunted when Thomas covered her body with his, his sword now at her throat. She barely had the presence of mind to retrieve her final dagger, centering the blade against his groin. They panted as one... both covered in dirt, sweat, and their own blood. Yet, no matter their fight, there was something elemental between them, something raw and enthralling. They both felt it, but neither of them understand its origin.

Thomas gazed down at her and tried not to focus on her luscious mouth. "Just how many of those daggers do you have?"

"This is the last, and before I die, rest assured I will make you useless to a woman."

He didn't know if he wanted to slit her throat or kiss her. No, he knew...

She hated the thrilling surge that went through her body when he settled between her open thighs. This was madness... and arousal.

"STOP!!! THOMAS!!!"

"Kimberly, he's not your enemy. Don't kill him!"

Both Thomas and Kimberly lifted their heads when familiar voices called out to them. On the ridge above, they saw all of the Knights and Rangers together astride their horses.

Thankful to the Gods that they had arrived in time, Jacen leapt from his horse and navigated the hill down to the bottom, with Trinity following close behind. "Brother, she is not your enemy. We have been deceived in a great many ways. We need to talk with them. Trust me."

Trinity exhaled upon seeing her sister still alive. "They are Knights, Kimberly. This is a huge misunderstanding! We must return to Elpis and discuss things further."

Despite trusting their friends, neither Thomas nor Kimberly backed off.

******

The end of chapter 2

Chapter 3: The Knights are shown first-hand the horrors of the Highlands. Zedd arrives in secret. Lady Catherine wars with her father and the secrets she fears he's keeping. Dark secrets.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: "Tomb of the Dark Ones"  
Chapter 3?  
Written by: Shawn**

**Summary: Countess Venom carries out her deadly orders. The Knights and Rangers reach an agreement as they tour the treachery of the Highlands. Governess Divatox has a visitor...**

**Category: Action-Adventure/Romance/Drama/Mystery Rating: MA**

**Timeline/Spoilers: None. This is my AU-verse. I consider it a hybrid of sorts, similar to the worlds of King Arthur or Dungeons and Dragons: a medieval land of magic and mystery Expect the unexpected.**

**Characters. Tommy, Kim, Jason, Trini, Zack, Billy, Aisha, Rocky, Adam, Katherine, Tanya, Zedd, Goldar, Zordon, Dulcea, and Rita - I will honor the heart and souls of the characters as we know them, tempered only by this new world that they inhabit. Some of their names will be changed slightly, but trust me, you'll have no trouble at all knowing who they are.**

**Special Note: While those here at and my Yahoo Group will see the full story, I'm creating a very special addition of each chapter that can only be found in the Tommy/Kim story section of the "Perfect Chemistry" forum. I've updated my FF fanfic profile and you can find the link there.**

**Authors Notes 1: All will be revealed in the story. Trust me.**

**Special Thanks: To Liz and Missa, my wonderful amazing art creators who inspire my imagination in this universe. And to Vivian for her insight and help in the fantasy world I'm trying to create. You're priceless.**

**"I have often sung to drown my sorrow, but seldom to express my happiness. Crying for joy, and singing for joy, were alike uncommon to me while in the jaws of slavery. The singing of a man cast away upon a desolate island might be as appropriately considered as evidence of contentment and happiness, as the singing of a slave; the songs of the one and of the other are prompted by the same emotion."  
~~ FREDERICK DOUGLASS, Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass**

**"If liberty and equality, as is thought by some are chiefly to be found in democracy, they will be best attained when all persons alike share in the government to the utmost."  
~~ Aristotle (384 BC - 322 BC), Politics**

**"Teamwork is the ability to work together toward a common vision. The ability to direct individual accomplishments toward organizational objectives. It is the fuel that allows common people to attain uncommon results."  
~~ Andrew Carnegie**

**********

**********

**Castle Ironsfyre **

**Home to the Duke and Duchess of Mecha **

**The Highlands **

**The land of Eltar **

**Late Night**

A tense, ominous mood settled inside the legendary castle.

From the long, broad stone balcony above the regal-decor of the main dining floor, a group of well-trained, battle hardened mercenary swordsmen stood as proof of the enhanced security measures implemented by the royal family as rumors swirled of a possible offensive. The silver and black clad masked warriors took their posts at opposite ends of the hall near the twin red carpeted staircases that led to the dining hall below.

"Six long seasons ago I entered our family into a blood pact with Governess Divatox. To be certain, her fierce ambition and unstoppable drive were astounding leadership qualities. Furthermore, she possessed a spark that made you feel she could steal the sun out of the sky and clench its fire to nothingness within her fist. She was clever and fearless... a soul without a moral core, and had no problem playing on the end of the King's leash so that one day she could choke him with it. So with the offer of absolute power, new lands, and freedom to do as we pleased beyond our wildest beliefs, I joined 'The Ring' with eyes wide open," Duke Mondo stated with a echoing flair to his booming voice, courtesy of the massive dining hall. Long, oil-lit torches adorned the ancient gravel walls of this fortress, providing a natural glow to the ceiling-high red Mecha Empire banners hanging from the rafters.

Around Duke Mondo this cold evening at the long dinner table sat his wife, Duchess Machina. His son, Prince Gazket, and his wife, Archerina. The royal family of Mecha, gathered this night to discuss their future. "We were the secret society... the hidden third government in this world, loyal to no one save ourselves. And for a time all went according to plan. The other six members divided the Highlands equally, while Governess Divatox ruled the whole and kept the King in place. We amassed fortunes we would never live long enough to exhaust, and stayed out of each other's way. Business was good to say the least."

With his steely gaze locked on the jeweled goblet being refilled with his favorite Elf wine, Duke Mondo reclined his large, portly physique. Rich in immense wealth and girth, even as he favored his family, he eyed them all with a small wedge of suspicion. "But as the Ring's silent influence grew, so did Governess Divatox's lofty aspirations. From my personal vantage point, there comes a time where you have to take a step back and watch events unfold. For the Governess, she has pushed and pushed until notice of her actions have begun to spread. And while fear is good for business, rumors of unspeakable arcane horrors are not. She wasn't content with our lucrative operation as it was. She wanted more... and sought the dark arts to obtain her goals. To that end, I can sense a dark cloud of impending doom looming over the Highlands. That is why I have tendered my resignation from the Ring."

Gasps were heard around the table, none more shocked than from the Duchess herself. For her husband to have taken this drastic course of action meant he knew more than he shared with her. A chilled tingle swept over her. "Surely you jest? Governess Divatox's reach stretches too far these days. She won't let us go."

"Not to mention our empire depends on the mining colonies she controls," Prince Gazket noted with a predatory glare at his father. "Leaving the Ring at this time could prove costly for all involved. What if the other members took us to war?"

"War, you say?" Duke Mondo tempered his smirk before downing his goblet until it was empty. With the back of his hand he wiped his face, and then gestured for the attendants to begin clearing the table. "Son, if King Zordon learns of what the Governess has allowed to take place in the Highlands, the Ring will be no more. Even if all the members private forces combined, they wouldn't be able to stand against the Grand Army of Eltar. So no, I do not fear war with the Ring, or Governess Divatox." His gaze darkened as he seized the attention of everyone in the room when his large fist pounded the table. "I fear a world war! I fear Governess Divatox is ignoring the ramifications if rumors of Lord Baron Rancore's forces operating in the Highlands are true. And I fear that our dear Governess has gone mad with dark magic. She is a treacherous being that I no longer want any part of. Unnatural death surrounds that wench."

Sensing the winds of change wasn't something that escaped Princess Archerina. Not only within the family's relationship to the Ring, but between father and son as well. She knew well her husband's ruthless greed and hidden motivation to upend his father and rule the empire himself. She was fine with that... for as soon as he claimed the throne, she intended to ensure he claimed a headstone right next to his father. "Without the mining colonies, what will we do for iron and steel?"

Duke Mondo leaned back, craning his thick neck about. He was a businessman first and foremost. But beneath that, he had no mercy for anyone that stood in his way. "I feel Governess Divatox has outlived her usefulness. Mechanical engineering and not magic are the wave of the future, mark my words well. In ten seasons time the world will rely on what we build today, so we must remain vigilant in staying our course. Whatever we will need will be provided by whoever takes the Governess's place when she is no more. The only true question is who do I use to slay her?"

Suddenly the balcony above the dining hall erupted with chaotic screams. The violent clash of sword and steel could be heard, but not seen... until the dining table itself was presented with a new offering from above.

The severed head of a mercenary guard, his eyes locked open, forever frozen in the guise of death.

"GUARDS!!! GUARD!!" Duke Mondo shouted while drawing his jeweled dagger from his belt. When his eyes lifted, the sight that greeted him froze his heart cold. "...the Ghost."

Leaping onto the smooth black marble railing, Countess Venom sneered down at the royal family. Youthful and lovely, her silver hair was as much her trademark as was her terrifying presence. Enveloped in dark attire, her twin swords drenched in fresh blood, she somersaulted off the railing, landing dead center on the dining room table.

Prince Gazket drew his sword, confident as the twin staircases soon filled with mercenary swordsmen. "I thought you were dead!"

"I am delivered." Racing down the length of the long table, she advanced upon two guards, flying over both with a perfectly executed leap. She parried the deadly lunge of one swordsman, slicing his throat from ear to ear, before jamming both swords behind her as the second attempted to attack. Her blades stabbed through his belly, killing him instantly. She withdrew her swords, eying the rest of the guards approaching fast.

"Kill her!! Kill her now!" Duke Mondo ordered while ushering the Royal family out of the way.

Countess Venom engaged three warriors, her speed far superior to anyone they'd ever fought before. The clash and clank of steel on steel resounded until at last she threw both swords with deadly accuracy, driving them into the chests of two of the mercenaries. She leapt over the the third, reached for his head in mid-air, and upon landing broke his neck with such force that bone tore through skin, drowning the front of his clothing in crimson. The lifeless body slumped to the floor with a thud.

Walking slowly to retrieve her swords, she grabbed them, ducking just before Prince Gazket's blade severed her neck from her shoulders with a wild attack. With her guard raised, they vigorously battled back, and then onto the staircase itself. Neither could gain an edge on the other, their motions lightening swift as they warred up the stairs. The Prince saw her as no more than a skilled woman, his male chauvinist persona ever evident. He sliced sideways, missing her, but connected with a fierce backhand blow that caused her to lose her footing and almost fall off the side of the staircase.

Prince Gazket narrowly missed her neck with a ferocious slash, and then felt the cold steel of her twin blades crossing his neck. He had no time to react. "I assure you, Countess. Your next trip to the Underworld will be the last!"

"Then prepare a place for me. For I won't see you soon." Her blades met at his Adam's apple, beheading the crowned Prince of Mecha. The dismembered object rolled down the stairs, trailing blood until it reached the bottom floor.

Duke Mondo watched in stunned silence, and then a violent roar tore from his chest, "MURDER HER!! A FORTUNE TO HER KILLER!!"

Countess Venom, trained since birth for this very purpose, viciously annihilated everything in her path. Swordsmen attacked from all sides, and were met with her deadly unorthodox fighting style. She leapt around the hall, using every angle, and anything to her advantage. She was death personified, a blur of raging fury. In her mind, the Governess's arcane teachings flooded her senses. Even when she questioned them, those thoughts faded to the back of her mind. Her life belonged to Governess Divatox.

She had no other reason she knew of to exist.

The dead, broken bodies began to litter the marble floor all over the luxurious dining hall. Swordsmen attacked Countess Venom two and three at a time, attempting to use their superior height and strength to their advantage. It didn't work. She massacred all who opposed her until every single piece of furniture dripped with crimson... until the last mercenary swordsman fell at her feet, his heart clutching onto one of her blades. "It is finished."

Countess Venom watched the heaving, snarling Duke Mondo as he was held by two of her assassins. "Governess Divatox sends a message."

Swallowing harder than he ever had before, Duke Mondo watched her slowly approach him. "What is her message?"

Leaning into him, her warm breath fanned his ear. "Resignation accepted."

Countess Venom drove a dagger into his chest several times while his wife screamed for her husband. She turned sharply to the widow. "Duke Mondo has ordered the deaths of over one hundred innocent people. He has several mistresses and countless bastard heirs all over the land. Tell me... will you truly miss him?"

Duchess Machina stared at the young woman, and then her husband's bloated, bloody carcass. Years of pain and betrayal forced her hand. Her survival instinct kicked it. "Will the Governess allow me to work with her?"

"... yes."

"Then so be it. The Empire of Mecha is at her command."

"Wise choice," Countess Venom left her with, walking away... her footsteps stained in blood.

******

******

**The ancient Church of Elpis **

**Former home of worship for the people of Shia **

**Home to the Rangers **

**The Highlands **

**The land of Eltar **

**Late Night**

Seated on a armless wooden stoop, Jacen allowed the old stone fireplace to warm his weary bones, while Bulkmier's thick and spicy meat stew filled his hungry belly. Dry commoners clothes, courtesy of Tatanya's kindness replaced his rain-soaked attire. The comfort was greatly appreciated, as he and the other Knights thanked her. Tonights battle had taken a tremendous physical toll on all involved, but he sensed a great deal of good would come of it. Surrounded by his beloved Knights, he listened intently as Trinity and Kaiesha wove the sad origin tale of the Rangers, and the current lawlessness corrupting the Highlands. Shocked and appalled best described his gut reaction, though he kept it to himself until he had all the information they came after. For now though, as time passed and wounds healed, he began to view the Rangers in a new light. One not marred by the endless rumor mongers or unjust bias.

Never mind the cruelty of the hard life they lived prior to this one, those four courageous women carried a nobility he swore the vast majority of those bearing that lofty title couldn't hope to attain.

Allowing the delicious food to settle, Jacen gazed about the modest decor of the old church. From the outside by moonlight it appeared whithered, as if a strong storm might spell its doom, causing it to fall in on itself. But the interior was designed as a fortress of sorts. Rebuilt and erected to stand the test of time, there was a basic eloquence to it.

Aged tables, chairs, and beds were obviously rebuilt with a carpenters skill. Red and gold tapestries hung from the walls bearing quotes of hope and triumph over adversity. The structure carried the ambiance of a home and a war room at the same time. The religious history intrigued Jacen as much as the two able men who spent seasons rebuilding it. The upper and lower floors were sectioned off into rooms of sorts, with this main area around the fireplace meant to plan and tend to the sick. Swords, maces, staffs, shields, and maps adorned the walls. A section in the far corner seemed like a workstation of sorts. Probably where Skullovitch designed his gadgets. Out back the Rangers had a barn filled with medical supplies, clothes, and food for anyone who needed help. They risked their lives trying to help a kingdom that had failed them, and never kept the spoils of their victory.

Treasure chests of gold were donated to orphanages, soup kitchens, and houses of worship that took in the homeless and those down on their luck. The Rangers saved enough to survive, but no more. Their story did more than fill in the gaps of their lives.

It inspired Jacen. He was truly touched.

With Tommy being tended to by Adama for his multitude of external injuries, Jacen caught sight of the mysterious glances shared between his co-leader and the leader of the Rangers. Kimberly of Hart looked as though she'd just fought a war, the same as Thomas. But while the room discussed and listened, they silently observed one another. Curious indeed. "So there are only four of you?"

Leaning against the dark brick wall with her arms folded, Trinity gave a nod. "Subterfuge and mystery allow us to appear as more than we are. Fear is a weapon we take great care to cultivate."

Jacen respected their cleverness. "At the very least allow me to begin formal introductions. My name is Sir Jacen. The man to my right who your leader tried to use as a carving post is Sir Thomas." His brother-in-arms shot a angry expression his way. Good. Jacen considered Thomas probably needed the minor dent in his immense pride. "We are the leaders of the Grand Knights of Eltar."

"My name is Lady Dulcia," she chimed in next, and gave a polite bow. "The man attending to Sir Thomas is Sir Adama. Seated on the left is Sir Zachary, Sir William, and Sir Rockford."

Trinity's gaze roamed the newcomers, favoring each with a gentle look of surprise. "I thought there were more of you?"

"The years have been treacherous," Sir Zachary offered while nursing a steaming pottery cup of tea, his mind ghosting past the faces of fallen comrades. Dark times... "We are all that remain of the Knights."

Kaisha remembered before her village was destroyed tales her father told her that the Grand Knights of Eltar, protectors of the Kingdom, numbered over a hundred not even ten seasons ago. Her sharp tongue toward them tempered. They didn't posses the clean faces of uncaring nobles she expected to find when the inevitable came to visit the Rangers. They were warriors, bearing the marks, scars, and hardness of a team that had withstood the underworld of hell and lived to tell about it. She quietly contemplated if she'd grossly misjudged them. Only time would tell. "My name is Kaisha."

"I am Tetanya," the Rangers other Nubian female noted. "Against the wall is Trinity, and the girl bleeding all over the place is our fearless leader, Kimberly of Hart." A snort of a reply from their leader amused Tetanya. "We are the Rangers."

"It is a pleasure to meet you ladies. Our first encounter notwithstanding, I look forward to working with you. Now that introductions are out of the way, on to matters of great importance." Mindful of all that she's learned thus far, Dulcia felt it was more than time to come clean with their new allies. At least she hoped they would become allies. "The rumors of corruption and excessive violence in the Highlands have reached the King's ears. He dispatched us in secret to learn the truth and then report our recommendation for rendering justice."

"He's years late, and there's a great deal of blood on his hands." Kaisha could hold her tongue no longer, though perhaps they didn't deserve her wrath. "The Highlands is in deplorable condition. There is crime of every sort in every single city. Forced slavery runs rampant, as does murder if you do not cooperate with Governess Divatox. She rules with an iron fist and an apparent lack of fear of the King."

"Hey, we got here as fast as we could," Rocky chimed in with a grin, only to reel from the blunt glares of the female Rangers. His mood turned serious. "I wish the King could be everywhere at once, and we had the resources to cross the world anywhere we're needed. But unfortunately we don't. The plagues in Mafir and the flooding that ravaged the Zentile lands stretched the Kingdom's resources very thin."

"Tell that to the families burned at the stake in Kithiria," Tatanya stated while cleaning the wound on Kimberly's arm, and then dressing it. "Still, there is much work to be done here, and finger pointing won't fix anything. Now we can sit here all night and fight about who should of done what and when, or we can work together to find a solution."

"My sister must be removed from her station," Dulcia announced to the room, flames illuminating her face by firelight. She didn't need to reveal her personal connection to the Governess, but felt if fostering trust with the Rangers would help, then she would have to extend it first. "Governess Divatox is my sister, but rest assured I am well aware of what she is capable of. And while I require more proof, I sense you are telling the truth. She must be taken into custody and tried in the High Courts."

"I say we kill her," Kimberly declared while gazing into the fire, her cursed sword by her feet.

"Murdering her without a trial would make us no better than her," Thomas argued, drawing her attention. Gazing into the brown depths of the woman he tried to kill, and who in turn tried to kill him, captured something elemental between them. There was a tense pull of some kind. "I have wanted to kill many enemies I have faced, but only in battle. Slaying her outright in the peoples eyes will place us at her level. We would lose even in victory."

"You're naive if you think she will just allow herself to be taken into custody, Thomas. She would butcher anyone to remain in power."

"Have the years so hardened you that outright murder is your only solution?"

Kimberly's eyes narrowed as her expression drew tight. "Have you ever been a slave, Thomas?"

He sighed as her meaning struck home. "No."

"Then do not presume you know of the years I've lived." Silence engulfed the room during their exchange. Kimberly peered away, fighting off a grimace from the flaring pain in her recently stitched forearm. Not to mention the splitting headache she suffered. "At least we all agree Governess Divatox must be taken down. Now how do we go about that?"

Adama finished dressing the stitched wound on Thomas's back. "Kimberly, I think all of us would like to see the Highlands first hand. Perhaps be shown what is transpiring in the cities. It isn't that I personally don't trust you."

"That's more than reasonable," Tetanya acknowledged, sharing a easy going grin with Sir Adama. She had to look away when it dawned on her how much she liked his smile.

While trying not to stare at Trinity, William found his shyness yet again a disadvantage. From the moment he saw her he hadn't been able to take his eyes off of her. Alas, the last thing he needed now was a distraction. "These lands are your territory. You know them best. Where would you take us?"

"Brielle," Trini explained to the Knight with the nice blue eyes, in her opinion. She fought off the notion that it was cute when he looked down upon noticing her attention on him. "There you will see the corruption of Governess Divatox's authority, and the severe poverty of its many people. Rest assured it is a place you will never forget."

"And Ismyr." Kimberly slowly stood on shaky legs, and was thankful when Skullovitch took her other forearm to help steady her. She favored him with a smile, and then caught a flash of something cross Thomas's face. The definition of, she wasn't sure at all. "Child prostitution and slavery are openly flaunted. If that place does not convince you to act then nothing will."

"It's settled them." Thomas struggled to his feet, drawing a dry shirt over his shoulders with Adama's help. "We shall split up and travel to those cities."

"Trinity and Kaisha will take some of you," Kimberly ordered.

Jacen sat his bowl aside. "Myself, Dulcia, and Rockford will go with them."

"You shall escort me to Ismyr," Thomas noted to the Rangers leader with something of a sly grin.

"Is that an order?" Kimberly fired back, her brow arched.

"A request," he amended softly. He thought she fended off a smirk... ever so slightly.

Kimberly's voice rose above the group. "The others will stay here. Tomorrow at first light we ride out. As for tonight, Bulkmier will show you to where you can sleep for the evening. We'll work out the rest in the morning."

Thomas watched the way Kimberly walked gingerly toward the stairs with Skullovich's assistance. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Are you?" she left over her shoulders, never looking back as the others conversed around them. And still she felt his gaze upon her...

**********

**The next morning...**

**********

**The city of Brielle **

**The Highlands **

**The land of Eltar **

**Early morning**

"Welcome to Brielle," Trinity proclaimed upon clearing the towering Great Gate and its sword-wielding guards, steering her mare towards the sprawling fenced stable yard dead ahead. Kaisha, Dulcia, Jacen, and Rockford rode closely behind. "These days we call it the City of the Damned. Soon you'll see why."

Having traversed Mystique's far-reaching boundaries many times over, Jacen had never visited this city before. The second largest habitat next to the capital city of the Highlands, Brielle was known as an engaging metropolis. A melting pot of magic, wealth, invention, and rich diversity. Settled within a mysterious dedicated fog, Brielle's buildings, famous inns, drink taverns, shops, brothels, and trade guilds spanned blocks in every direction. The cobble-stone streets were crowded for this time of day as the Knight had rarely seen such a well-populated city, noting the vast wealth and obvious poverty all around him. Nobles clad in colorful silk and lace rode elaborate chariots pulled by Draikeels. Powerful three-legged creatures with scaly green skin and a mean temper to match. They were five times stronger and durable than horses, but required a great depth of experience to train and control. They were the preferred status symbol of the rich and powerful.

They meant nothing to Jacen. Showing off for the public while others starved around you made him sick to his stomach.

As they approached the stable yards, Jacen saw beggars being ushered from in front of a large fruit stand by a loud, rowdy owner. Their dusty clothes best resembled rags, and they appeared malnourished and in poor health. There were just so many of them... his heart ached. Gambling and other games of chance littered street corners, garnering crowds of onlookers and those looking to try their luck. Further down the street he recognized scores scantily clad women attempting to garner amorous attention from the wealthy men who rode alone in their chariots. Their fake smiles and bawdy charm didn't betray the emptiness he found in their hollow eyes. He knew pain when he saw it. But he also knew, unsavory as the thought was, that when you were starving you did what you had to do to survive. Times were hard here. Such sights didn't exist near the capitol of the Eltar. The poor were taken care of as mandated by the King. None went hungry or unclothed. There were shelters and religious houses where those down on their luck could receive help and support. From what Jacen had seen so far, Brielle deeply underscored where Governess Divatox's priorities laid. Anger flashed across his face. "How long have there been homelessness here?"

Kaisha rode alongside the Knight, favoring him with a cool expression. "For as long as I have been in the Highlands. As a warning, brace yourself. You will see far worse than that here."

Sensing her chilly tone, Jacen shook it off without feeling insulted. With what she'd been through personally and seen in the Highlands, he knew that to her the Knights represented little difference from Governess Divatox. In essence, both looked the other way when it came to the peoples suffering. He hoped in time her opinion of them would change.

As the group reached the stable yard, a portly one-eyed Elf waddled his way towards them. "Welcome, welcome," he greeted them in a high-pitched tone, his face adorned with the same fake smile he'd given the last twenty travelers. His gaze quickly swept over the new arrivals. They lacked the clothing of nobility for certain, but didn't appear to be paupers either. Any gold was good gold as far as he was concerned. "My stable yard is at your disposal. Twenty coins of gold will suffice for the entire day. I ensure your horses will be watered and fed. May I assist you?"

Trinity swung her leg off her horse onto the ground. Her dark brown cloak hung just over her shoulder. She reached inside a pouch on her hip and produced a handful of gold coins. More than what was required. "We'll be back well before sundown. Be certain that our horses are well taken care of." The Elf nodded gleefully, counting his gold while the others dismounted and joined her. Stable hands quickly escorted their horses away.

Now alone, they could discuss how this was going to play out. Trinity stood before them all. "I know what I want to show you in particular," she addressed the Knights. "On the way there you'll have more than enough evidence to condemn the Governess."

"Lead the way." As the Knights followed the Rangers down the street into the heart of the city, Dulcia exercised her breathing techniques to calm herself as she took in her surroundings. Kressen farmers peddled their goods in old wooden carts that had seen better days. Soup kitchens had greeters stationed outside, offering samples of steaming beef stew that could be purchased inside. But nothing was freely given to the obvious hungry that begged nearby.

And then there was evidence of the Grissom plague in the outer appearance of Brielle's various races that caused a troubled glare to cross her face. Proper treatment of the plague left no lingering outward evidence that it had ever been there. But dark red welts were signs that only part of the healing treatment was done. She recognized scores of humans, elves, Dacrons, Lirens, and Z'ars bearing the raised scars of the plague. How could her sister allow so many to suffer without proper treatment? Was she truly as heartless as the Knights feared? The haunting gaze of dirty children running in packs nearby tore at her soul. Every single one of the children bore traces of the plague. In its lesser form, it could bring about incurable blindness, severe weightless, and painful tremors.

At its worst it could...

"By the Gods!" Rockford swore, covering his nose and mouth with his hand as they rounded a stretch of tall buildings to reveal a shadowed clearing that ended in a wide scorched alley. The horrid scent greeted them before the sensation of sight found their eyes. "I've never smelled such a wretched odor."

Trinity stood watch behind the Knights, her arms folded, her eyes averted. She felt a momentary sympathy for them. "I'm sure you've seen traces of the Grissom plague here. It ravaged the Highlands for weeks. The Governess told the people that the King couldn't be bothered with this sickness, but that she would be our savior. She didn't have her men hand out the cure. She sold it. Those that were able to buy, barter, or steal healing potions were give watered-down versions that barely saved them. Those that weren't so lucky were brought here and burned alive."

Charred bones rose thickly from the ground to level with the roof of the tall building attached to the alley, branching so far that they resembled a wall of the dead. Hundreds upon hundreds of bones lay whithered from an obvious fiery blaze. Unburied and horrific.

"That is barbaric!" Dulcia growled upon taking a slow step closer. So many of the skeletal remains were small... were children. They were given know honorable passage into the Netherworld. This was unholy in her eyes. The corpses were piled so high she had to crane her neck to see where they stopped. "I swear on my life that Governess Divatox will pay for this."

Trinity quietly backed away, a bit startled by the vehemence of the Governess's own sister. "There is more to see. Come."

Side-stepping a street card game, Jacen observed as they made their way through the crowded city that Dulcia and Rockford were just as shaken as he was. The King's honorable empire was crumbling before their very eyes. Justice did not live here. Not when Taz'millen men and women, the cursed race who fought alongside the Eltarian army and helped win the war, were shackled to polished Blackstone pillars and sold into slavery before their very eyes. The stage where the bearded man compared their strength and endurance to animals made his stomach retch. The crowd bid on them as they would a prize mare. The Taz'millen deserved far better than this. Their natural gray skin and lack of outer hair meant that the sexes were separated by body types alone. They did not smile nor cry or show much emotion at all, but among them were some of the worlds most incredible writers. They could express such emotion in words. A decade ago in the King's time of greatest need that peaceful race rose up and took arms to fight for the kingdom of Eltar.

Without them the war would have been utterly lost.

To see them now... the proud Taz'millen being sold like cattle caused Jacen to grip the hilt of his sheathed sword. Out the corner of his eye he saw Rockford do the same, and found the scowl on Dulcia's face menacing. They wanted to act, but there was a bigger threat at play. Justice required patience. For now they would remember all that they saw, and then deal with the Governess. All in due time.

Silence accompanied them down a side street where four red armor-clad Ventress guards, Governess Divatox's personal law enforcement cabal, were arresting two women for selling Hyphren. The crushes ashes of fairies, a very powerful and addictive drug snorted through the nose. It was the scourge of the Eltar kingdom, having spread across the country like wildfire. The fact that an entire species had to be murdered to create the drug wasn't bad enough, the mind-altering effect of the drug often created heights of emotional responses. Some boisterous. Some sexual. Some very violent.

The Ventress guards took the drugs from the women, sold in small leather pouches, and sent the women on their way minus all the gold they had. Snickering amongst themselves, they casually entered a nearby tavern after having split the drug dealers earnings. Eltarian law required that they destroy the drugs and arrest the dealers.

The law didn't exist here. And it hadn't for a very long time.

"The King cares for his people," Jacen offered quietly as they toured the western end of the city near the work guilds, noting the beautiful architecture and stained glass windows. Most were closed down or boarded up. There was no surer symbol of poverty than a lack of work. "He would be appalled by what is happening here. And when he learns of this we will put an end to Governess Divatox immediately."

"Why has it taken so long?" Trinity questioned, her hands clasped behind her.

Dulcia gently took Trinity's wrist, capturing her attention. "With all do respect, have you any clue the immense size of the entire Kingdom? Now while that is no excuse for the pain and suffering taking place in the Highlands, the lands are spread far apart. So many are in dire need of assistance. Plagues in other areas, warring tribes, and natural disasters have taken their toll. The Kingdoms resources, both in man power and supplies, have been stretched to their limits."

Retracting her wrist with respect, Trinity looked away, sighing. "Who was looking out for those that were suffering here?"

"The Governess, unfortunately," Jacen interjected, shaking his head. "The King is human. As with all humans, he is not perfect. Neither are those chosen to govern. But I promise you, Trinity. The King would not ever stand for this if he knew."

The conversation continued around Kaisha, but her attention was away drawn to Rockford, who had quietly departed the group moments ago. She saw him round a corner and slowly followed for reasons she couldn't quite explain. The screams of a child soon caught her notice and she considered that maybe he sought after the same. Stopping behind a shackled horse-drawn wagon, she found the Knight standing before a very tall, lanky Norseman in front of a food market. The long-haired Norseman appeared to be the owner or manager, his apron bearing the same name as the swinging oak sign hung above the open front door. Beside the metal pens housing chickens and pigs, a thin middle-aged woman stood holding a crying infant, with two younger children standing behind her. The younger of the two, a little girl with flame hair, held the hem of her mothers ragged dress. Like many here, they appeared homeless and scared.

Kaisha did not approach, choosing to keep watch instead. She could not hear the conversation Rockford had with the store owner, but when he reached for his hip the Norseman took a step back. Instead of unsheathing his sword, he produced a pouch of what looked to be gold glinting from the partially open top. He gave the entire bag to the Norseman, and then motioned toward the family. Sighing, the Norseman nodded his head and stepped aside from his store's entrance. The woman drew the Knight into the dearest hug the Ranger had ever seen, and then quietly disappeared inside the sword with her children.

With the Ranger looking on, the Knight waited until the woman gathering what she wanted. She ended up needing a wagon for all the food she purchased. The mother left the market with tears in her eyes, thanking the Knight over and over. His gift came at a time she desperately needed it. All the while the Knight's face betrayed no great pride. He favored her with a sincere smile, and then walked away.

Having hated the ruling body of Eltar for so long she wasn't sure when it began, Kaisha felt startled by a new feeling. Guilt. Perhaps she'd been wrong about the King and those that followed him didn't care for anyone but themselves. Perhaps she'd created a false image of them due to the cruelties she'd seen. Maybe there was more to the story...

She shook her head clear, taking a long way around so that the Knight wouldn't know of her presence. When she rejoined the group Rockford was already with them, listening in on their conversation without adding a word. She playfully rapped her knuckle over his shoulder. "You disappeared for a little while."

Shrugging, Rockford tossed a sidelong grin her way. "Just touring the city." He said no more, and never told the group of what he'd done. He didn't try to gain support or change her mind about him. Wasn't looking for praise. He simply performed his duty as a Knight was supposed to.

Falling a step behind him, Kaisha had to admit she was impressed... and a bit charmed. He had a nice smile.

The group toured the city completely until morning gave way to mid-day. The Knights had more than enough visual evidence to condemn the Governess. They navigated through the busy crowds, now freely talking amongst themselves. Not necessarily as friends, but far from the enemies they were just last night. As they traded stories upon retrieving their horses, a depth of respect began growing between them all. It was the beginning of a partnership.

And so much more.

******

**The city of Ismyr **

**The Highlands **

**The land of Eltar **

**Early Morning**

"I think the work your Rangers are doing is remarkably honorable."

While Thomas's warm voice caressed her by sunrise, Kimberly led the Knight through the guard checkpoint into the den of perversion that was the city of Ismyr. Though enjoying his compliment for a brief heartbeat, she quickly fought off the alluring emotion. After all, just last night they were trying to kill each other. He might not be her enemy, but he certainly wasn't her friend. "I don't recall asking for your assessment."

Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas caught the barely stifled smirk of Skullovitch. Throughout their entire ride this morning whenever the Ranger's leader verbally bit at him, the whelp had the nerve to enjoy it. He couldn't help the curiosity he felt over what Skullovich's true 'relationship' with Kimberly might be. "Fine. I won't offer it again."

Thomas's annoyed silence as they made their way through the city was a welcome gift to Kimberly. It was bad enough the trouble she had last night trying to banish the vision of the very striking Knight from her dreams. There was just something about him that clawed at her subconscious. Sure, he was the most skilled warrior she had ever faced. And yes, she wasn't so little a woman in spirit that his handsomeness was lost on her. But there was more. Something deeper and far to new for her to be able to name. For now she felt bad over the guilt of Skullovitch's dear smile when she asked him to accompany them here at dawn.

When in reality she wasn't so certain she wanted to be alone with Thomas. For the Devil of her she didn't know why.

Wide pebble-rock roads led to amazingly beautiful multi-story inns, a towering main street Cathedral, Gilenhall bank, two market districts, and a handful of old taverns throughout the small city. Tiny homes clustered together lined side-streets, while the imposing Guild Hall building and it high number of guards protected the city. Boisterous side-walk vendors peddled everything from silk scarves to expensive jewelry and magical items. Vibrant, colorful fresh flowers adorned all windows and porches, while slim row-boats sailed the crystal water lake that nearly circled the entire city. Wagons and chariots of obvious wealth moved about, showing off its upper-class noble society.

Those that walked the busy market area they passed through were dressed in some of the finest clothing Thomas had ever seen. Jewels lit by sunlight from rings, bracelets, and necklaces showed off their owners immense luxury. As it were their little group arrived arrived today as humble commoners, their clothing a collection of lighter and darker browns. "I've never seen such wealth outside the capital city of Eltar," the Knight noted while closely shadowing Kimberly down the crowded market street on a warm, sunny morning.

"Riches are spent here on the backs of women and little girls. Sex is the city's most profitable trade. If there is even a trace of goodness in you, then this place will sicken your stomach." When she side-stepped a small band of traveling musicians, Kimberly tried not to be moved by Thomas's close proximity. "Rest assured your eyes have never witnessed the depravity they will this day," she darkly noted.

Well-dressed attendants standing in front of the elegant Valderen Inn at the corner escorted two male rider's horses to their nearby stables while the men quickly swept inside the building. Thomas could all but smell the heavy scent of ale on them when they passed by. Their stumbling steps spoke of drunkenness, while their faces bore hunger for female flesh. When a golden chariot pulled in next, the fur-clad nobleman and his male entourage were personally led inside. Stray pieces of their conversation fell to his ears, all focused on the carnal tastes they intended to satisfy. Whoring was illegal in Eltar, though it was widely known that didn't stop the trade. But to be featured so openly for the public was appalling to him. "How many brothels are there in Ismyr?"

"At the moment, eight that I know of," Skullovitch answered while trailing behind the duo, as well as watching out for pick-pockets. "All of them are highly profitable. They now outnumber the taverns, stables, food vendors, and other legal businesses. They are horrid places."

Of that, Thomas couldn't agree more. The Knight scowled at the sight of two young girls, barely twelve seasons he would estimate, being walked inside another brothel down the street beside a busy clothing market. Their downcast gazes wore blank, disconnected expressions. Were they... Thomas leaned down to Kimberly's ear. "As young as those?"

"Younger," Kimberly declared while gazing ahead, unable to stare into the face of another child-whore sold into sexual slavery. "Men's lustful tastes are fowl and relentless."

Thomas gently took her arm, turning her to him. He would never ask if during her time as a slave she was ever sold in such a way. But he dearly hoped to begin changing her mind about some things. "Not all men. Certainly not I." Her painful wince quickly drew his hand away. "Did I hurt you?"

"Last night," she exhaled, unwilling to allow him to see her discomfort any longer. "I needed four stitches to close the sword wound you inflicted on my forearm."

The savagery they battled with last night still lingered today. Only now the tension was different. Alas, he hoped to lighten the mood a tad. "You bettered me then. I needed six on my back and four more on my shoulder." He thought he saw the hint of a small smile favor her pretty mouth, but as swiftly it departed. Skullovitch stared daggers at him and now all was revealed. So, Kimberly was wanted by this man. But she was obviously not taken. At least not by him. Begrudgingly, Thomas couldn't blame him for being drawn her. And he'd cut his own tongue out before admitting that.

The Rangers leader left them a few paces behind. Now Thomas could feed his curiosity. "Have you something to say?"

With Kimberly a few steps ahead, Skullovitch walked step-for-step with Thomas. He made no effort to hide the coldness in his voice. "You almost killed her last night."

"She almost killed me," Tommy reminded him.

"Then consider yourself lucky that you're still alive. But be mindful that I am watching you. And I am not blind to the way you look upon her," Skullovitch warned.

"No more than I of you, kind sir." Thomas tipped his head wearing a knowing smile and then walked off after Kimberly, saying no more. He felt the man's gaze bore into his back.

Approaching a familiar haunt, Kimberly took the six stone stairs to a corner tavern's entrance and then spun around to wait for Thomas. He approached her slowly, as if giving her a good look at him. By daylight he was a beautiful man to behold. Tall and lean, graced with such fury and passion in the way he fought. Her teeth gritted when she realized she was actually staring. "A good friend of mine owns this establishment. Its called 'The Wild Horse'."

A gentle breeze blew the wooden sign bearing the tavern's name back and forth. Unable to resist, Thomas deftly invaded her personal space as her back pressed to the entrance. His voice lowered for her ears only. "So a hard ride is guaranteed then?"

Kimberly swallowed. Deeply. A crackle of sensual electricity passed between them. Unwavering, she met his obvious intent head on, pursing her lips seductively. "Provided you could handle it."

"I can handle anything."

"You thought that last night as well. Before I broke you."

"In your wildest dreams."

"No... in yours." She left him grinning while fighting off her own, pushing through the double swinging doors into the smoky depths of the Wild Horse tavern. The airy main hall was, as expected this time of day, mostly empty. But not so empty as some required the spirits to start their day no matter what. The interior felt old and welcome, like coming home from a long journey. A cooking fire-pit steamed in the far corner with two maids preparing spiced meats that tickled the taste buds. The delicious scent of food filled their air. The paneled walls were covered in many colorful Guild flags, both legal and otherwise. All were welcome here no matter their affiliation just so long as they played nice with each other and brought gold.

Up ahead, several of the ten round oak tables were empty. A lone drunk having already had his fill this morning. A trio in one corner, and a gambler counting the last of his gold coins wearing a scowl in the other.

From behind the long bar counter, a gentle smile favored Kimberly from a man as round as he was jolly. He circled the bar to reach her and then gave her big hug. Friendly eyes appraised her. "There's a bruise on your neck, milady. Have you been fighting... again?"

Ernie's fatherly teasing aside, she hadn't had time to visit him in weeks. His playful ribbing was sorely missed. "Little Ole me?" She even fluttered her eyes.

Looking past his good friend to those behind her, he laughed, "This one is trouble."

"Of that I have no doubt," Thomas pointed out, his gaze never wandering from Kimberly. She dared meet his for a heartbeat and then looked away.

Ernie shook Skullovich's hand next, having met the young man a number of times. The other was a stranger. "Who do we have here, fair Kimberly?"

Though secretly cringing whenever he called her 'fair Kimberly,' something he playfully knew annoyed her, she pushed it out of her mind. "This is Thomas. He's a... uhm..."

"Gentleman caller?" Ernie just had to tease.

"NO!" both Kimberly and Skullovitch replied at the same time, vehemently shaking their heads.

Thomas found the scene most amusing. "A riding companion for the day. No more." He then added upon looking around, "This is a wonderful establishment."

"In a corrupt town, I'm afraid. But the complement is appreciated just the same." Tending bar for as many years as Ernie had left him with a quick and sharp perception, honed over many seasons. There was definitely something amiss between Kimberly and this Thomas fellow. As well as Skullovitch's obvious disapproval of the other man. Interesting indeed. "What affords me the luxury of your presence, milady?"

"For the moment, a round of drinks for myself and the men. I would speak with you in private afterwards." Ernie was one of Kimberly's best sources of information in the Highlands. Men tended to loosen their lips the more they plied themselves with the spirits. That information has saved a number of lives in the last year. "One Cahors wine for me."

Ernie nodded while leading the trio to a empty table against the far east wall. "Skullovitch?"

"The same as the lady." That earned him a small smile from Kimberly. And a eye-roll from Thomas.

The tension between the two men could not have been more obvious to Ernie. Whatever mischief was Kimberly up to these days? Interesting. "And you, Thomas?"

"A plate of hot food will suffice. My morning meal was quite lacking in taste," Thomas enjoyed saying as he knew Skullovich would take offense.

Skullovich, though a nice guy by all regards, really wanted to stab Thomas. Repeatedly. Especially when he pulled Kimberly's chair for her. Something she looked woefully unaccustomed too. Dammit, why hadn't he thought of it first.

Meanwhile, Kimberly physically brushed past Thomas to take her chair. The hot sensation of their bodies touching quickened her heart. What magic was this man's mere presence working on her? Nonetheless, she graced him with a "Thank you."

"My pleasure." Thomas took his seat next, across from a scowling Skullovitch. From all that he's learned since last night the Ranger's inventor was highly skilled in many trades and a good, loyal man. All qualities the Knight greatly admired. He had no quarrel with this man in any way... except that to Skullovitch, he was some sort of a rival for Kimberly's affection. At least that was how it seemed. How that assumption could be possible considering how he and Kimberly were trying to murder each other last night was beyond him. Still, he would be lying if he said the Ranger's leader did not sway him in any way. She was a Lioness among other women. She had his attention.

Easing back in his chair, Thomas made note of the three burly barbarians closely watching their table. They were the type that kept watch out for anyone who appeared to be a easy mark for robbery. His hand grazed the handle of his sword. Nonetheless, it was time to get back to business. "Why bring me here?"

"You'll see soon enough," Kimberly said.

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting right now." His seething only amplified her pulse. Thomas, arrogant as he was a gentleman, looked better than any man had a right too. She hated that she noticed. She also hated the way his eyes drank her in. She loathed that his attention made her feel something. "Are the Knights in the Highlands only because of your suspicions concerning the Governess?"

Beautiful and perceptive. Thomas had even more to admire concerning her. She had to have considered that five battalions of soldiers could have done what they are doing and that there had to be more to their mission that simply looking into the Governess. "Yes."

Kimberly watched him closely. "You're lying."

"Then get the truth out of me," Thomas challenged, his gaze engaged with her own. "How can you expect cooperation when you offer only veiled answers to my questions and not so veiled insults at every turn?"  
Her expression reflected her internal struggle - he got to her. "You have not earned my trust."

"And you have not earned mine, but the fact remains we have to work together for things to change."

Brown eyes pierced her own. Her jaw tightened. He was right, angry as she was to admit it. "I like trying to kill you far more than working with you."

"You failed at one, so please do try to have more success with the other."

"Failed?" she practically snarled. "My dagger rested against that paltry package you call manhood before your friend saved your life."

He heard Skullovitch snicker from the 'paltry package comment'. "My sword was at your throat as you were beaten. Perhaps if we weren't interrupted I would have been less of a man, but you would have been dead." He leaned across the table. "You lost and you know it."

She wanted to hit him. Hard. "I lost? Is that why your friend spent half the night tying your flesh back together? I carved you up like a pig roast."

Rage spiked in Thomas. "You were the one on your back at night's end. Be thankful your head is still attached to your shoulders."

Kimberly's hand grazed the hilt of her sword. "We can go outside and finish this right now, Thomas," she threatened without fail. "You couldn't handle me on your best day."

Her words hung between them, fierce and hot. "I 'will' take you."

"No... you just want to." Their gazes locked tight. The world around them faded.

Skullovitch was never more thankful in his entire life than when Ernie arrived with the drinks and food. If he had to watch Kimberly and Thomas verbally spar... or flirt anymore, he'd lose his mind. Their was a hot spark of something when they fought that he absolutely couldn't stand. Kimberly seemed incensed with rage at the Knight in a way he'd never seen her act towards a man before. Thomas was equally focused, only he hid his entertainment at their arguing far less than she did.

Both seemed to like the agitation between them far to much.

Sadly, yet again he was reminded that while he was a trusted, good friend to Kimberly she did not see him as a man. A real man who drew her passions. And in less than a day he knew Thomas had burrowed under her skin. He got to her. The revelation burned him with jealousy and a somber regret that he could never inflame Kimberly the same way. Their friendship, begrudging as it was to finally admit that was all it was, never came with arguments or fire. They teased, but never flirted. They bantered, but never passionately. They hugged, but without any sort of amorous affection.

Right here at this table he saw more pure heat between Thomas and Kimberly than the scorching fire that burned Elpis to the ground. Damn... now he needed two mugs of wine.  
Small talk ensued as Kimberly and Skullovich began laying out the city and the brothels by name, factoring in when the Governess got her cut of gold from the whore-houses and how long that had been in practice. Thomas made mental notes while eating, and was most appreciative of Skullovich's detailed review of the movers and shakers in town. While Kimberly was the fist of justice, it was obvious the man and his friend Bulkmier were spies of sorts. They blended in and retrieved vital information wherever they were. His respect for Skullovich grew rapidly.

Thomas finished his food, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. As they talked the tavern began to fill around them. The wide open windows showed the streets filling with growing crowds as mid-day approached. "Where are the girls taken from?"

"Small villages, camps... and some are sold by their starving families. Others are kidnapped because they are pretty or fit a certain type someone wealthy was looking for. They are beaten and trained to be whores. Some kill themselves while others are resigned to their fate. It is a life of utter horror where you are nothing but a tool to generate gold coins." Kimberly deeply exhaled, recalling when she was sold into slavery. Though she was blessed without human masters and their lustful desires, she was treated horribly during her time of captivity. But compared to what some of those young girls deal with, her past didn't seem to rate at all. At least she still had her innocence. "Thomas, I brought you here because all of the brothels send 'Lookers' into the taverns. They're usually attractive, striking females who introduce themselves to the men and invite them to the brothels at a discounted price for the first visit. Its a effective practice. And after a couple of drinks most men wouldn't mind the company of a woman."

"The men I associate myself with do not seek women who sell their bodies," Thomas interjected.

"What about those that are simply sold against their will?"

Thomas shook his head, understanding her deeper meaning. He had not meant to offend. "In most cases I know where the true blame should be placed. I blame the law breaking owners of the brothels and the Governess. They allow this disgusting lifestyle to become a part of the city's culture. And they ruin so many lives. But their end is coming, I promise you that."

Last night when they fought Kimberly had never met such fiery intensity in battle. And now that she knows Thomas is a Knight, her distrusting heart warmed to the sincerity of his eyes. For every reason she had not to believe him, something in her stirred that she should. She sensed he was a man of honor. One who couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of her. The attention was to her... appealing. "I will hold you to that promise, Sir Knight."

The thought of her holding him closely tempted his tongue with a flirtatious reply. Thomas quelled it... for the moment.

"So Thomas, any Princesses or fair maidens awaiting you back at the castle?" Skullovich just had to ask. He secretly watched Kim, noting her apparent disinterest. He hoped he was reading her right. He hoped Thomas would be on the swiftest horse ever back to Eltar by nightfall.

Thoughts of Catherine and the complex situation he was in came to him in a flash. Lifting his mug, Thomas finished his drink before replying, "Not in the widely understood meaning of the term."

"Yes or no will do," Kimberly interjected out of nowhere, unsure why she did.

Before Thomas could say another word a startlingly beautiful woman with long red hair, fair skin, and lovely green eyes in a matching silk dress marched into the tavern. She leisurely gauged the taverns patrons, observing and searching for the right look. Upon catching site of Thomas, she smiled brightly and headed straight for his table.

"That's Calis. She's a Looker," Kimberly explained before they were greeted.

"Excuse me, gentleman," their new guest greeted warmly them, minus any acknowledgement of Kimberly. "My name is Calis and I represent the well-known Marshall House across the street," she pointed to the three-story tan villa that doubled as a brothel. "Its such a beautiful day today and I bet the two of you wouldn't mind enjoying the company of a beautiful woman. And since I do not recognize your faces, I'm sure a beneficial first-time arrangement can be reached."

"We are already in the company of a beautiful woman," Tommy spoke up, having seen enough. His words stalled Calis dead in her tracks until he caught sight of something that sent cold dread throughout his body. He now had to think fast. "But perhaps you are right, Calis. I would not mind at all to enjoy meeting another beautiful woman this day. And if you don't see a problem... my wife here wouldn't mind either."

Eyes sharply widening, Kimberly's face froze, though she kept her cool. She had no idea the game Thomas was playing, but something within her trusted him to see it through. Or at least wanted too. "Its early in the day, Beloved. I would not be opposed to... making a new female acquaintance," she graced Calis with a simmering smile, and was sure the other woman came to think her sexual preferences were flexible, so to speak.

"That can most certainly be arranged at Marshall House, milady," Calis replied with a knowing nod for Kimberly. "Now if you will allow me a moment to speak to the house-master, I would be glad to see to your ever whim. Even personally in this case," she winked at Thomas and then took her leave of the tavern.

"Whatever are you doing?" Skullovich questioned Thomas angrily. Kimberly wanted answers as well, her arms crossed, waiting.

Sighing, Thomas leaned across the table, speaking in a quiet tone. "I just saw three Belfast Norsemen enter that brothel. They are hunters employed solely by Lord Baron Rancore and are enemies of the Eltarian Kingdom. For them to be here represents our greatest threat. I must follow them and discover why their purpose."

Before Skullovich could protest, Kimberly raised her hand. "I will accompany you."

"Thank you." Thomas stood and walked toward the bar counter where Ernie was, paying the man what they owed. Behind him he heard Kimberly and Skullovich arguing over him and what he was about to do. The Ranger's leader respected her good friend enough to hear him out, but made the decision to join Thomas nonetheless. Yet again her courage touched him. But now he would have to trust her. She earned that much putting herself in harms way on his word alone.

With apologies to Skullovich, Kimberly returned to the Knight. "Let's go."

"Kimberly," he stopped her briefly. "You know of the treaty between Lord Baron Rancore and King Zordon?"

"Yes. And I know of Lord Baron Rancore's men moving about the Highlands."

Thomas blinked. It seemed nothing escaped her. "The Belfast Norsemen's mere presence here is violation of the peace treaty and an act of war. But we truly fear the reason for their presence. Rancore can't win a war against us. He no longer has the manpower, even with his dark mystics. So why are they here risking a doomed war?"

"That's why you're here, isn't it," Kimberly concluded with certainty. "To find out why?"

Thomas bowed his head and conceded. "Yes, it is."

The truth at last. Kimberly accepted it without a second thought. "Then if war is on the line we haven't a moment to lose. Skullovich is going to return to Elpis and tell the others."

"Thank you," he offered sincerely, and with a gentle note of intimacy

Kimberly simply could not explain the powerful kinship she felt toward Thomas. "You're welcome," she replied as something soft and elusive passed between them.

Thomas hadn't meant to take Kimberly's small hand into his own simply to further the impression they were married as he stated. The ache to touch her was something he pushed to the back of his mind as they crossed the crowded street and took the long stone path towards the garden entrance of Marshall House. The beautiful three-story villa was bathed in fresh flowers and lovely female attendants who greeted all guests. They were led inside where Calis waited in the white main hall.

Wanting this to go as smoothly as possible, Thomas retrieved a satchel of gold coins he brought with him as that would settle any consideration Calis had that they could pay. They were, after all, dressed as commoners. "We've never been to a place like this before," he began a bit nervously for effect. "We noticed how beautiful your villa is when we saw those three men enter it a short while ago."

"Never mind those brutes, kind sir," Calis flirted with a gentle swipe of her tongue over her lip, watching this most attractive couple. "They've wandered to our top floor where a more aggressive brand of entertainment is offered. I'm going to assume that's not what tempts you this day, right?"

"Not at all," Kimberly declared, looking to Thomas with a smile before addressing Calis again. At least now they knew where the three Belfast Norsemen were. "I must admit my nerves are on end as I have never done this before. I feel a bit parched all of a sudden. Could I trouble you for a glass of wine?"

Calis motioned to the colorful couches filled with pillows behind them. "I will see to it that a glass of our finest red wine is brought to you immediately, milady. Make yourself at home while I find the ladies Enles, Helena, and Pascion. I am sure one of them will be to your liking. And if not... I'm sure I can provide what you seek." There was no mistaking her hidden meaning. She departed, leaving them alone.

And as a new group of wealthy nobles arrived in front of the villa, the attendants walked outside to greet them. Kimberly saw opportunity knocking. "This is our chance."

Thomas quietly followed Kimberly into the main hall, and then further into the villa. They saw downstairs door being shut by a young girl with honey blond hair appearing less than fourteen seasons of age. Her companion inside was far older... Such was life in Ismyr. Her innocence, life everything else in this filthy city, was for sale.

Further down the hall led them to a spectacular round staircase featuring a spiraling iron handrail. Brilliant streams of sunlight beamed in through windows along the staircase as they swiftly made their way to the top floor. Thankfully at the top they found a empty short hallway with five rooms, two on the left and three on the right.

They treaded carefully until carnal sounds of sex became unable to ignore. Wishing to be rid of this fowl place as quickly as possible, Kimberly tried to ignore it as best she could, especially with Thomas being so close to her. "There were three of them and I doubt they are all in one room. Unless they like to play that way."

"I've heard that they do, but we need only one of them to interrogate. Hopefully one among them wanted some privacy." Further down the short hall Thomas heard a woman's laughter, followed by the tell-tale accent of a Norseman. Only one of them. "Here," Thomas pointed to the ruby red door. "We will seize him and..."

Steps from the spiral staircase could be heard. Kimberly reacted without thought, grabbing Thomas's hand and reaching for the knob of the nearest door. Whoever was inside was going to just have to be dealt with. As it were, she drug him inside a dark, narrow, coffin of a closet. They barely fit, with their bodies pressed tightly together as she gently shut the door and prayed no one saw her. Soft footfalls passed the closet followed by harder ones. A woman leading a man. Their luck hadn't run out yet.

Kimberly turned her ear from the door and sighed, now faced with the strong allure of the warm masculine body she was pressed fully against. Heat lanced through her as she warred to ignore her body's traitorous reaction. "Hopefully Calis will think we decided to take a pass."

"Yeah..." Really, that was all Thomas was capable of saying. As his eyes adjusted to the mild darkness, he swallowed as fiery arousal came over him. Here was the same woman who just last night tried to kill him. And now all that he could envision was possessing her in every way a man could possess a woman. The seductive feel of her robbed him of his sanity. All that he could do was inhale the scent of her skin while gazing at the utter beauty of her mouth. Mercy, had any woman ever captivated him so? Never. Last night they fought like animals. Today the intensity was just as passionate, only now there was no where to run from it.

The steady thumping of a bed rocking against the back wall signaled their Norseman had only just begun to enjoy his escort. Those were the last sounds Kimberly wanted to hear as her own thoughts were centered on the man she was so hopelessly attracted too. Dammit, she hated to admit that to herself as it just made no sense at all. But there was something about him she couldn't deny herself of. She wanted him. Why... she'd figure out later. "So we wait him out, then burst in, knockout the girl and interrogate him?"

Unconsciously, Thomas's hands found their way to Kimberly's hips. Her lips parted when he touched her, and he swore the tiniest moan escaped her lips. He was so hard and knew that if she hadn't already noticed she would soon. And it has been so long since last he was with a woman. "Sounds like a plan."

Shutting her eyes briefly, Kimberly knew she did not just feel... She 'felt' him and her heart raced. A subtle twitching over her belly that was marked by a smirk crawling slowly over her face. "That Norseman turning you on next door?"

"Hardly."

"Hard being the appropriate term," she teased with a whisper, though when his hands squeezed her hips she quivered. Her bottom lip gently caught between her teeth. "Stop that," she whispered.

"Stop what?" Thomas asked evilly and then did it again, eliciting the same reaction from her. Red tinged her cheeks in a blush. "You don't want me to stop."

"You just don't want to stop."

"Perhaps you wish it were Skullovich you were trapped in here with?"

Her smile shined in the dark. "Absolutely."

"Liar."

"Takes one to know one," she fired back while daydreaming about running her hands all over his body. "Being a coward doesn't become you."

"Rest assured I am no coward."

"Then take what you want." Whatever the origin of that bold declaration, she would never discover. All coherent thought fled the moment his warm mouth captured hers with such hunger she whimpered. Instinctively her arms curled around his neck, while their lips vigorously swayed back and forth in a deliriously passionate kiss that seemed without end. Her heart pounded a war drum inside her chest while thoroughly kissing him with such lust she had never known before. His arms held her closely now, drawing her tight to his chest. She couldn't seem to get close enough to him.

Caressing her back through her clothing, Thomas savored the sheer sensation of kissing her with reckless abandon. Never had he ached for a woman so as he did for this one.

With a audible gasp, Kimberly departed his mouth, panting hard. "Satisfied?"

"Never."

"To bad. That was a once in a lifetime kiss. You best savor it for it will never happen ag..."

Thomas muted any further protest with his tongue, drawing strongly from her soft mouth in another ravenous kiss they left them both moaning and groaning into each others mouths. This time he pushed his hands into her silky brown hair, clutching the back of her head while plundering her sweet mouth with one wet kiss after another. Her tongue lashed at the lower part lower lip, and then surged back inside his mouth, gliding alongside his. They held each other, lost in the pure heat of devouring each other.

Desire spiked hot within Kimberly. Such feelings scared and excited her as she considered if he would lift her against this wall and claim her... "God," she panted hotly over his mouth. "Oh God..."

It was Thomas's turn to relinquish her delicious mouth before he lost sense all control. She felt perfect in his arms. "Tell me, Kimberly. Do you belong to any man?"

"No one. And never you." She tempted his anger, and before he could react her right hand fisted the collar of his shirt and she drew his mouth back to hers, drowning him with such passion. The lazy-sexy way her tongue slid over and around his had him throbbing powerfully against her. Her left hand fisted over his stitched back as she felt him shudder. One of his hands grasped her forearm, surrendering to her the same pleasure/pain she had given him. She felt him... wanted him... took his very breath as her own until his hands slowly began inching her dress up. Mental cold water dashed her back to coherency as she heard the door next to their closet open and shut. Light footfalls again. "Thomas, wait."

Panting heavily, Thomas stared at her. "What?"

"The girl... she just left the Norseman next door."

About ready to damn his duty, he somehow came back to his senses. Begrudgingly, he left her go. For now. "Come on,"

Gently, Kimberly pried the door open. They quickly entered the hallway, both drawing their swords. Sharing a look, they walked to the door. She turned the knob as they entered, swords raised. They needed to subdue him quickly and as quietly as possible.

What they found was a fully dressed, passed out Norseman lying face down on the bed. Thomas came around to the side where he found a half filled cup. The drinks scent was strong as it caught his attention. He also realized what it was. "There's Bylian in this ale. I can smell it."

"What's Bylian?" Kim asked.

"A powerful sleeping potion that causes a person to forget recent events. I think some of the girls here are skimming a little extra off the top for themselves. When this guy wakes up he'll think he had the time of his life."

"But we heard the bed rocking."

"Maybe the girl faked it," Thomas noted as he checked the Norseman's gold satchel. It was empty. But a traveling bag on the floor looked very interesting. He drug it up on the bed, and then began looking through it. Inside, he found a map of the Highlands with red marks on it. As well as what appeared to be a scripture of some kind written in a language foreign to him. "Kimberly, take these things."

She accepted the map and scripture. "What are you doing?"

Removing a bronze coin from his side pocket, Thomas slipped it inside the Norseman's bag. "These are cursed coins. William has a spell he can use to track them wherever they are in the world. In the short term if we wake this guy up we may get some answers. But we'll learn far more if we can follow him."

"Good plan."

"Thanks."

Kimberly moved back to the door, keeping lookout while Thomas finished going through the Norseman's possessions. Her lips still stung from the heat of their kiss. She couldn't get it out of her mind. Now she knows how he tastes. How his body feels nestled against her own. And loathe as she was to admit it, she wanted more of him.

******

******

**Fahlen Estate **

**Owned by Governess Divatox **

**The Highlands **

**The land of Eltar **

**Late Evening**

A lone slender figure emerged from a torch-lit corridor walking towards a broad stone-cut veranda up ahead. 0Approaching her master from behind, Countess Venom halted a few steps away and felt to one knee, bowing her head. "The gathering is complete, milady."

Adorned in the finest fiery red silk cloak and black-jeweled headpiece, Governess Divatox meticulously surveyed the main dining hall's collection of Ring members from her lofty perch. The enormous feast her twenty cooks prepared filled their bellies to overflowing with hot bread, spiced meat, thick soup, and plentiful wine before she made her grand entrance to discuss Ring business. She observed them without a trace of envy, so tremendous were her growing powers in the dark arts that she no longer needed food for sustenance. "Good. Ensure that my guard detail maintain a close watch on our guests traveling companions in the south hall."

"As you wish, milady." Personal bodyguard details, mistresses, horsemen, and sorcerers often accompanied the various members of the Ring organization at all times. They were a dangerously paranoid lot, wealthy and powerful, each of them. But secretly they all feared the Governess. She was the very life-blood of the Highlands and its true ruler in every way. Countess Venom, nonetheless, kept silent vigil on all potential enemies as a threat to her master was a threat to her as well. After all, overconfidence was the path to destruction. "I shall take my leave for now, milady."

With but a casual wave of her well-manicured hand, Governess Divatox sent her incredibly highly skilled personal assassin on her way. The young woman's soul remained one of the Governess's most priceless possessions. For all the days of Venom's life she would serve and butcher for Divatox alone. Enough musing over her prot g . Her gaze again focused on the rowdy guests below. Seated around a archaic marble and brass table covered with a thick tapestry that bore the Ring's ancient symbol of a rusted bloody ring were the members themselves.

Rarely in history had such a deadly assemblage of heathens been amassed under one ruling body.

The Tribal Warlord Bane, as gruesome a hulking bald figure as one could imagine, tore meat from a bone as if he'd not eaten in days. Dragon-skin covered the dark sleeveless vest he wore, the hot-iron branded tattoo's burned onto his powerful arms were evidence enough of how deadly a man he was. Built like a fortress with legs, he was a man of little words and extreme violence. The tribal warlords he commanded numbered in the hundreds, but were worth thousands of regular swordsmen. If he had his way and a army of warlords, he would attempt to conquer all of Eltar himself. For now, he owned the mountains and death to anyone who said different. He was not a man to be trifled with.

Wulf's barely restrained animalistic behavior was evident as he ate, or did whatever semblance of the word best described him. Ragged, razor sharp teeth wrenched meat from bones while he made the most profane noises. Cursed by gypsies, he was the first of his kind and never lost his beastly form irregardless of a full moon. Ashy black fur covered his entire body, while his face betrayed the most minimal of human qualities. His cursed kind ruled the northern woods and no army yet that ventured there returned with even a tenth of the men sent. Wulf barely spoke, though he understood wealth. In fact, the Governess was certain he understood a great more than he let on. He wasn't half the mindless fool the others thought him to be. Sometime his black eyes gleamed with wisdom, though he hid it well. But not from her.

Enigmatic and precise, Duchess Machina drank slowly from her golden goblet, no doubt observing rather than making her presence felt. Governess Divatox smiled. She was smart to listen and learn rather than attempt to overtake her husband's heavy-handed position. She was also a widow now, and perhaps a black one. Though the Governess doubted she lost much sleep over her immensely unfaithful husband's demise, her son might be a different subject. For now though, the Mech empires iron mines and weapons factories were worth any future risk. Still, she was one to keep close watch over.

Horde, as always, fancied showing off his latest baubles. Born handsome, blond, and raised with historic nobility, he not only wanted to be among the most wealthy in the land, but he wanted everyone to know it. And he didn't care who he had to kill, manipulate, or destroy. His lusts were legendary and as varied as the sparkling jewels on his wrists. It was said he's sired twelve sons and nearly as many daughters. Whores stayed at his mansion on call day and night for whatever desires he awoke with. His empire was rich with precious gems and fertile land that stretched for miles. If only his loyalties were as affluent as his gold satchel...

Last, but certainly not least, the shriveled Lady Shizra impatiently waited for the Governess to arrive, having never enjoyed the spending time with the 'boys'. She came from old money, older than the silver hair and lined wrinkles that spoke of her advanced age. It was said a more hated woman has never existed. Her family built their fortune on the slave trade and owned half the brothels in Ismyr. Lady Shizra had no son, nor heir of any kind, and no lovers. Power sustained her. Gold gave her purpose. And hell to anyone that stood in her way. She was simply mean and filled with ugly greed. It was said she didn't love a single living being in this world. Not even herself.

Governess Divatox expected that at some time in the future, be it near or far, she would have to slay them all. A more distrusting lot there wasn't in all the world. Alas, for the moment they all served their purpose. Or more to the point they serve her.

Her musing ended. It was time for the meeting to begin as the Ring members had their fill of the feast. Governess Divatox exited down the warm corridor, past her guards and through a long treasure-lined hallway that marked the castle's luxurious interiors. Her nails slid along the oak railing that twirled round as the staircase she took to the bottom floor below. She entered the main dining hall to a chorus of applause.

Flat-stone walls decorated with breathtaking flags bearing Governess Divatox's Phoenix crest gave the appearance that you were in the presence of royalty. The high ceiling, with its curved stained glass dome lorded over the magnificent dining table where the Ring members sat. The far back wall was a huge crackling fire pit that warmed the entire sprawling hall.

Surrounded by her cadre of deadly swordsmen, the Governess took her throne at the head of the table. She settled back, her hands clasped in in a prayer-like pose. "We have a problem."

Wiping his meat-sauce coated mouth with the back of his thick hand, Bane offered, "Who needs to be killed?"

"Its not that simple," Governess Divatox declared while meeting the troubled gazes of all present. "The Ring is only as powerful as we are united. If any part breaks then we are no more." Rising to her feet, she began touring the table slowly, hands locked behind her back. "This organization was created to consolidate our individual strengths into a omnipotent whole. And in doing so, we've accomplished great wealth and influence. Though King Zordon sits atop the false throne of Eltar. we are the true power in the Highlands," her voice echoed powerfully around them. She owned their full attention. "Any threat to that power must be swiftly removed."

Wulf clawed at the table's tapestry, snarling the entire time. "Do those tasty Phantoms concern you, dearest? Shall I tear their flesh to pieces?"

"No," she replied in a hushed quality. "Their misguided attempts to bring justice back to the Highlands cover our own activities. When the time is right to finally deal with them we shall blame them for everything. Until then their presence is to our benefit. Leave them be."

"Aye," Bane interjected. "The mystery they spread aid us greatly. But if they are not our issue, Governess. Then what is?" Out the corner of his eye he observed Horde shift nervously.

Traversing the table at a casual pace, Governess Divatox's eyes hardened. "Sadly, we lost Duke Mondo in recent days. But Duchess Machina has gratefully taken his place." Grumbles around the room, but none so disagreeable. "Even that is not my issue this evening. For it has come to my attention that one among you has betrayed the Ring."

Accusations and threats swept through the room like wildfire until the Governess shouted, "ENOUGH!" Silence... "Lord Baron Rancore has minions loyal to him operating in the Highlands."

"The hell you say," Lady Shizra broke her silence. "If you have evidence of what you say then that is an act of war. Such news would be extremely troublesome."

Governess Divatox nodded respectfully, standing behind Bane's chair with her hands resting behind her back. "Alas, I have made contact with Rancore myself and brokered a quiet deal with him. We are choosing no sides save our own. And while the Lord is many things, he is no fool. He's searching for something he will not reveal to me, but his men's access to the Highlands was worth three dozen chests of gold." Shock around the room as she smiled. "I am nothing if not a shrewd business woman."

"Obviously," Duchess Machina complimented.

"Thank you. So as we will all afford Lord Baron Rancore's men full access to our lands we shall watch them like hawks and report every single thing they do. Lady Shizra, have your whores pay extra special attention to them. Pleasure tends to loosen mens tongues even faster than good wine."

Lady Shizra gave for her what counted as a smile. "As you wish, milady."

"Now to deal with our problem." Extending her hands across the table, swirling green smoke shoot from her fingertips, electrical sparks igniting within as it struck Horse. "You cut your own deal with Rancore, excluding us. And for that you will pay the ultimate price."

For years to come they would all remember Horde's choking shrill of a scream haunt their nightmares. The green smoke whirled around his body while he shook violently, his hands rising to his throat as he could no longer breath. But that wasn't the worst of his problems as his clothing melted away layer by layer, taking softening flesh and blood that revealed muscle and then bone. He dissolved before their very eyes, viciously ravaged and consumed by Governess Divatox's immense power.

At last the only remains of Horde were his skeleton, arms raised to hold his throat, a final death pose for all to witness.

Bane snickered. "I never liked him anyway."

"A filthy thing," Wulf added while picking his fangs. "Though his bones look quite tasty."

"Help yourself, Wulf." Governess Divatox rule was absolute and any who betrayed her would die. There would be no exceptions. "Now that bit of unpleasantness is behind us, let us better discuss this Lord Baron Rancore situation. I feel that..."

A sudden, detonating explosion from above shattered the entire stained glass dome, raining huge razor sharp fragments all around them. The Ring members scattered for their lives from the glass shards, drawing weapons as the dining hall filled to overflowing with swordsmen. The deafening blast shook the very floor beneath their feet, but it was the unexpected being that caved-in through the ceiling, landing dead center on the marble and brass table drew their undivided attention. His silver-plated mask reflected their gazes back at them, while he stood to his full towering height. A more imposing figure there had never been.

Zedd pointed his sword at the Governess. "We have business to discuss, Divatox!"

Roaring the dark arts within her to life, Governess Divatox's hands began glowing with ominous green fire. "Who are you?"

"Your new master."

"I have no master," she swore. The emerald flames blazing her hands grew blindingly powerful. "If you seek the Underworlds Grim Reaper, allow me to arrange the meeting."

Chaos erupted!

*********

**  
The End of Chapter 3**

**Chapter 4**

**Divatox Vs. Zedd, Catherine fears her father secrets, William begins decrypting the scripture while Kimberly tries in vain to stay away from Thomas.**


End file.
